We All Live in Robotic Space Lions
by Foeseeker
Summary: They might be the defenders of the universe, but they're also four teens, a stressed space dad, and two often confused aliens. Sick days, stories, and shenanigans ensue. [A collection of fluffy oneshots]
1. Sniffles

The sniffles were the first clue.

Lance squinted at Shiro across the table as they dug into their respective breakfasts. "Hey, man, you got a cold or something? You sound a little stuffy."

"A cold? No, I'm fine. How could I catch an Earth illness in space?" Shiro tried to grin but sneezed violently instead, barely getting his hand up in time to cover his face. "Ah, sorry…"

The blue paladin raised an eyebrow. "Y'know, usually I'm super impressed by your epic dad sneezes—"

"My _what?_ "

"—But that's the fifth one this morning. Are you sure you're not sick?"

"Maybe I've got a touch of something, but really, I'm fine." Shiro waved it off. "I'll get a cup of tea or something hot before we go to the bridge. That always clears me up."

"You sure? 'Cause if you want to get some extra rest or something—"

"Really, Lance, I'm fine." Shiro bolted down the rest of his food and deposited his plate in the automated dishwasher. Yay advanced alien tech. "Thanks for the concern, but I've pushed through worse."

He headed to his room to change, feeling Lance's suspicious eyes on him all the way out the door.

He did have that cup of tea, some sort of herbal blend they'd picked up on some planet that tasted vaguely like mint and orange, but the sniffles and sneezing didn't stop. As he dressed he discreetly tucked some tissues into a pocket. Better safe than sorry.

Once they were on the bridge he didn't engage with the rest of the team as much as usual, feeling sluggish and out of sorts. They were circling a planet that had recently joined the coalition as they figured out their next move, but the region had remained calm, so everyone was startled when they received an emergency transmission from a ship close by. The other paladins and Coran clustered around Allura as she opened the transmission. Shiro opted to stay in his seat. His head was starting to feel like it had been stuffed full of cotton, and his awareness of up and down was getting a bit wobbly.

A green alien appeared on the screen, six pale eyes wide with terror. "We're under attack from two Galra cruisers, and we don't have weapons, they're going to kill us all—!"

"Voltron will be there right away." Allura swept her gaze over the others. "Get to your Lions now! We need to help them!"

The others sprinted for their bays. Shiro thought he saw Lance frown over his shoulder at him before the blue paladin disappeared into the elevator, but he had to blink to clear his vision and by the time he did so Lance had vanished from sight. He caught Allura looking at him with some concern and tried for a shrug. "Sorry, just… thinking about how to handle things. Good luck here."

She weighed him in her gaze, then nodded. "Good luck to you too."

He could feel Black's disapproval before he even stepped into the bay. She seemed reluctant to open up to him, projecting clearly her dissatisfaction with his condition. Shiro sighed. "I know, but it's just a cold. I'll be fine."

If a mechanical lion could snort, Black did, but she opened her mouth and let him take his seat in the cockpit. She launched at a far gentler rate than she was wont to do, and Shiro tried not to roll his eyes. "Come on now, you don't have to… _atchoo!_... You don't have to baby me. Let's get this fight over with."

It wasn't quite that easy.

Shiro found himself lagging behind in the fight, with Black making up for his deficits far more than usual. Lance didn't say anything about it, but the younger paladin stuck as close as circumstances permitted, which was frustrating but also necessary; twice he handled incoming fighters that Shiro just couldn't seem to respond to in time, and once took a hit meant for Black. Keith kept yelling at Shiro to engage, which started a verbal sparring match between the red and blue paladins that Shiro wasn't up to stopping. Then Pidge took a serious hit and Hunk had to cover for her as she fell back to reorient.

"Guys, this isn't working," Keith rasped over the comms. "We need Voltron."

"Right. Voltron." Shiro hitched a breath, shaking his head. Keith shouldn't have to call the shots for him! "Pidge, you ready?"

"As I'll ever be. Let's do this."

They pulled it off. That, at least, was a relief. But it took longer than usual, and even after the Lions were combined Voltron didn't seem to be functioning at full capacity. Shiro could feel his energy draining more than he was used to, and by the time the fight was over and the surviving cruiser had fallen back the world was spinning. Black nudged him, concern humming through the controls beneath his hands, and he sighed.

"I know, I know, we're heading back now. I'll be fine."

They were the last ones to dock at the Castle, and again Black glided to a sedate halt with as little jarring as she could manage. Shiro slumped against his control panel for a moment after landing, trying to get his scrambled senses back into some order. Huffiness over his lack of care for his health jabbed at his thoughts, and he gave a breathless laugh. "Maybe you're right, but it couldn't be helped. I'll get some rest now, okay?"

He braced his hands against the panel and hauled himself to his feet, only to find hands gripping his arm and shoulder. Startled, he looked around and saw Lance bracing his left side, face all concern if a bit embarrassed. "Hey, man, you were taking a while to come out, and you seemed kinda out of it during the fight, so I thought—"

"No, no, it's okay." Shiro realized that he'd unconsciously leaned on the other paladin's shoulder, and decided that gravity was getting a little too unstable to stand upright again. "Thanks, Lance. I'm… You were right, earlier. About being sick."

Lance looked sharply at him, then hauled his leader out into the bay. Shiro was too tired to resist, and he wasn't surprised to see that the others were gathering there too. As soon as they emerged Lance barked something at Hunk, who stripped off his glove and felt Shiro's forehead. The yellow paladin bit his lip. "Oh, man, you're burning. Uh, Coran, do you guys have thermometers in the infirmary?"

Alteans apparently didn't use Earth-like thermometers for fevers, but they did locate another device that Hunk declared did approximately the same thing. He tested Shiro's temperature and announced that the black paladin had a fever of a hundred and two and was to stay in bed until further notice, with a prescription of chicken soup and lots of hot tea.

"Can't he go in a healing pod?" Pidge asked Coran.

"They don't work for illnesses," the Altean replied. "They're more for injuries and that sort of thing. Sorry!"

Shiro wasn't about to complain, even if he'd had the energy to do so, and found himself in his pajamas in the middle of a pile of pillows and blankets in very short order. Hunk bustled about making sure he was comfortable, then disappeared muttering something about soup. The others lingered, apparently loath to leave, until Coran shooed them away and told Shiro to "just yell if you need anything and we'll be here in two hops of a kylacker!"

"Thanks, Coran," Shiro called back as the door closed.

He curled slightly beneath the blankets, feeling hot and stuffy and horribly out of sorts. His head felt like it had been crammed full of bees and cotton, and his thoughts would not put themselves into any kind of coherent order. His eyelids seemed thick and heavy.

Hunk _had_ said he needed sleep…

* * *

Shiro woke to the sound of his door sliding shut and footsteps padding quietly toward the bed.

He stirred and blinked, eyes oddly gummy and his throat rough, with a wetness in his chest that took several hacking coughs to clear. The air trapped with him beneath the blankets was way too hot, and his skin felt sticky. "Uh… hi," he rasped, squinting up at the intruder.

"Oh, man, you sound awful." Hunk deposited a tray beside the bed, looking down at his patient with sympathy. "Feeling any better than you did earlier?"

Shiro shook his head, the motion stunted by his pillows. "Not really. How long was I out?"

"Almost six hours. Vargas? Whatever it is." The yellow paladin, in his casual clothes and an apron, crouched down to be more on Shiro's eye level, expression open and sympathetic. "You really need to get something in your system. I whipped up what I _think_ is kinda like Earth chicken soup. It's what my mom always made when I was sick." He lifted a bowl from the tray. "You don't have to eat it all, but… just some of it?"

Shiro squinted at the concoction, and sighed. "It doesn't have any of those worm things in it, right?"

"Cross my heart, those things weren't even in the room when I was cooking. Didn't let Coran within ten feet of it."

With a groan, Shiro heaved himself into a sitting position, leaning back against the pillows as he accepted the bowl. The brew actually didn't smell too bad, and when he took a hesitant sip at the broth he felt his eyebrows rise. "This tastes… really good. Thank you, Hunk."

The younger paladin's face split in a wide grin. "I just hope you feel better soon. I wrote down the recipe so I can make it again if you want more."

"I just might." Shiro spooned down the soup, grateful that his stomach wasn't rejecting sustenance. Nausea on top of a fever was awful. "Did you learn how to do all this from your mom?"

"Yeah, I guess." Hunk's smile wavered a bit, and he looked away. "She'd always do this sorta thing for me, and I helped with my siblings when they got sick, so… I just picked it up, I guess."

"You don't talk about them much."

"Yeah, well…" The younger paladin shrugged, and the smile slipped completely. "It's kinda salt in the wound, y'know? Especially for Lance. He was real close with his family, and… I don't wanna remind him too much. There just doesn't seem to be much point in talking about family, not when we're out here. Cooking helps me think of them, though."

"Did you guys cook together?"

"Oh yeah, all the time. My family has a restaurant, back home. All of us work there, and my grandma and cousins, too." A wistful expression stole over Hunk's face, and he tipped his head back against the bedframe as he stared into memory. "We were always trying to come up with new recipes that we could serve. But my grandma, she makes the _best_ sauce in the universe. It's got mango and rosemary and I don't even know what in it—no one else knows the recipe. But she promised me she'd tell it to me when I graduated from the academy." He sighed, and slanted a glance back at Shiro. "Think I'll get to do that, someday?"

Shiro blinked and set aside his bowl. He hadn't given the academy much thought, not for a long time, and certainly not in respect to any of the others. Keith a little bit, maybe, but he'd never seen the others at the academy before he'd left on the Kerberos mission, so even though he knew they'd attended there before everything it didn't feel quite concrete. "Well… I don't know. That might depend on a lot of things. I mean, who knows, when they see what good pilots you guys have become they might even just give you the diploma without making you go back to school."

"Oh, man, would that be great." Hunk grinned, then realized what he'd said. "I mean, not that I don't like the academy, but… I'm not really the academic type, y'know? Class work's never really been my thing."

Shiro grinned wryly. "I know what you mean. I was the same way, actually."

Hunk twisted around to stare at him. "Seriously? But you're, like, the Garrison's star pilot!"

"Pilot, maybe. Student, definitely not." Shiro rubbed his raw throat, remembering the days when a stint in the simulator was the most exciting thing to happen in any given week. "Matt Holt tutored me in almost everything. He's pretty much the only reason I graduated."

"Man." The yellow paladin flopped back against the bedframe with an expression that spoke of his basic assumptions about the world being turned upside down. "You… you really were bad at classes?"

"Remember Professor Montgomery?"

"Oh, yeah. His physics class was scarier than fighting the Galra."

"I had to take it twice."

"Ooh, man." Hunk winced in sympathy. "That must've been awful."

"Hey, I'm pretty sure I got the survival skills necessary to last a year with the Galra from that class." Shiro leaned back against the pillows, surprised to find himself feeling better than he had. "The Garrison kept all that pretty hush-hush during the publicity for the Kerberos mission, I guess. Wanted to paint the picture of humanity's best and brightest going where no man has gone before."

Hunk blinked, and gave his leader a disbelieving look. "Oh, you did _not_ just quote _Star Trek_."

Shiro grinned. "Hey, I saw the opportunity, I took it. Blame Matt Holt. He got me hooked." He paused as something occurred to him. "Wait, how do _you_ know that line? That's an old show."

"My dad's been a Trekkie since he was a kid." Hunk's wide, honest face split into a happy smile. "All we kids know the good lines."

"We've _got_ to have a marathon when all this is over."

"I'm game. And I'll bring snacks."

They lapsed into comfortable silence, Shiro sticking a foot out from under his covers to even out the temperature (it still made no sense to him why that always fixed the problem). Hunk sat with his back against the bed, eyes closed with a small, wistful smile on his face. Neither felt any interest in or need to disturb that silence, the only sound their breathing and the faint hum of Castle circuitry, the air scented faintly with Hunk's soup.

All in all, not a bad way to spend a sick day.

* * *

Please review!


	2. By the Power of Disney

It all started simply enough.

The Blade of Marmora had picked up a tip that a particular Galra cruiser was going to be transporting a large group of slaves to a mining colony. The Voltron team agreed to intercept it. After a planning session for how they were going to execute the mission, they decided that Coran would remain on the Castle to pilot it while Allura snuck onto the cruiser with Pidge. The princess would provide the muscle and diplomacy with the prisoners and Pidge would handle the hacking with the aid of her copy of the coding in Shiro's mechanical hand. The others would draw off the fighters and provide cover. Coran and Shiro in particular weren't thrilled about the princess going into the thick of things, but she was determined. "And anyway," she pointed out, "this is one of the Galra's largest class of cruisers, so there are going to be more than enough fighters for you to handle. I'm almost inclined to go alone and let Pidge stay with you so you can form Voltron if necessary."

"No, you're going to need her with you," Shiro replied firmly. "We'll be able to handle ourselves." He swept his gaze across the other paladins. "All right, guys, let's suit up."

They headed for the armory. Just inside the doorway, however, Lance halted. The stand for his armor was empty.

 _Oh, idiot._ He'd forgotten that Pidge had promised to repair a busted strap on the chest plate after their last battle. She must not have put it back. "Pidge?"

"What?" The green paladin was already halfway into her armor, her attention only half on Lance as she struggled with a clasp.

"Where's my armor?"

Pidge blinked and looked up, dragging her attention away from whatever Pidge-y things she'd been thinking about. "What?"

Lance tried not to roll his eyes. "Where. Is. My. Armor?"

The girl frowned as she hunted through memory. "I, uh, put it away?"

"Where?"

A snort from behind him made Lance look over his shoulder. Shiro was watching them sidelong, his lips folded between his teeth in a manner that spoke of great effort not to laugh. Lance blinked. _What's so funn—_

 _Oh._

He felt a smirk creep across his face, and glancing back he saw the same recognition dawning in Pidge's eyes. They exchanged a glance, and grinned. The green paladin put her hands on her hips. "Why do you need to know?"

"I need it!"

"Uh-uh!" Pidge snapped her fingers at him, chin jutting out as mischief sparkled in brown eyes. "Don't you think about running off doing no derring-do! We've been planning this fight for two months!"

With a resigned Keith and a grinning Hunk now watching too, Lance flung up his arms. "The public is in danger!"

"My evening's in danger!"

"You tell me where my armor is, woman! We are talking about the greater good!"

"'Greater good'?" The green paladin jabbed him in the chest. "I am your teammate. I am the greatest good you are ever gonna get!"

They stood there, mock-glaring at each other, until Shiro gave up trying to keep a straight face and began snickering into his hand. Hunk beamed at them. "You guys are crazy, you know that?"

"Aw, c'mon, Hunk, let's be honest—we're all mad here." Lance smirked at his friend and raised an eyebrow in Pidge's direction. "Seriously, though, where's my armor?"

"It's in my room." The green paladin yanked on her gauntlets and headed for the door. "I'll go get it."

Shiro's lips were still twitching as they headed to their respective Lions, but everyone seemed to settle down as Allura took the Castle through a wormhole and they launched into the fight. As planned, Pidge and Allura in the cloaked Green Lion circled wide and landed on the cruiser while the other four paladins engaged the cruiser's compliment of fighters. And, just as Allura predicted, they quickly found their hands full. Lance barely managed to avoid getting hit by one particularly determined Galra and felt a twinge of vengeful satisfaction as he nailed the jerk with an ice blast. Color flashed by, and he looked up to see the Red Lion chasing three fighters while being tailed by another.

"Keith, there's one on your six!"

"I'm aware of that!" The other paladin corkscrewed in an attempt to shake his pursuer, several blaster shots just barely skimming past. Lance could almost hear Keith's teeth grinding. "Kinda got my hands full!"

"Hey, look on the bright side," Pidge whispered into the comm. From her attempt at quiet, she and Allura were probably somewhere in the middle of the cruiser by now on their way to disable the ship's weaponry. "It's a target rich environment!"

"I'll give you target rich, you little—!"

Several fiery blasts burst from Red, and Lance had to dive out of the way as a half-melted fighter almost careened into Blue. "Hey, watch it!"

"Guys, get your heads in the game!" Shiro barked. "We need teamwork, not bickering!"

"Uh, guys, hate to break it to you, but there's another wave of fighters incoming." Hunk swung Yellow alongside Blue, the Lion's head jerking toward the cruiser. It was interesting how much the pilot and the Lion were connected, even to the point of the Lions mimicking some movements of their paladins. "Any idea what we should do?"

"We've got to split their forces somehow." Shiro smashed through a cluster of fighters that had been unwise enough to group up. The jawblade glinted in the light from the nearby twin suns before the fighters exploded in a really satisfying fireball. "Maybe create a diversion."

The word twigged at Lance's memory. More specifically, the part of his brain dedicated to the hundreds of hours he'd spend watching movies as a kid and at the Garrison with Hunk. He grinned. The hapless black paladin couldn't have set this up more perfectly if he'd tried.

"What do you want me to do, dress in drag and do the hula?"

For a moment, there was dead silence.

At the same time as Allura's bewildered "what?", Shiro snorted with laughter, almost drowning out Pidge and Hunk's snickers and Keith's loud groan. Lance grinned and fired off an ice blast at a fighter. Oh yeah. He was _hilarious_. And he wasn't done with this reference yet. "Hey, Hunk, you wanna do this?"

"I am _totally_ in." He could hear the yellow paladin's broad grin. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

"Yep!" Lance slammed his joysticks forward, and Blue shot into the midst of the fighters with Yellow hot on her heels. The Galra hesitated for a moment, apparently bewildered by such a strange maneuver, and Lance took full advantage as he careened through the thick of the pack, yelling with glee. "Oh yeah! Luau!"

"Lance!" Keith snapped. "Don't you—"

Lance grinned and raised his voice, effectively drowning out the red paladin's protests. "Iiiiif you're hungry for a hunk of fat and juicy meat, eat my buddy Yellow here because he is a treat!"

Even louder sputters of laughter came from Black's cockpit, the Lion practically shaking with her paladin's mirth as she hovered alongside Red. Keith was still trying to get a word in edgewise, and Lance was just as determined not to let him. "Come on down and dine on this tasty feline, all you have to do is get in line!"

It looked like the Galra were going to take him up on that offer. The fighters began to close in, some of them bringing their blasters back into play. Lance slowed a bit to stay closer to Yellow, taking advantage of the other Lion's better armor. "Are ya achin'—"

"Yup, yup, yup!" Hunk turned Yellow so the two Lions were back to back. Good. He'd picked up on what Lance had in mind.

"For some bacon?"

"Yup, yup, yup!"

The fighters were clumping up around them. Lance readied his hands on the joysticks, feeling Blue thrum in preparation. "He's a big cat!"

"Yup, yup!"

"You could be a big cat too! Oy!"

In perfect sync, the two Lions shot forward in opposite directions. Yellow smashed his way through the fighters that were unlucky enough to be in his path, while Blue arced up and around and tore off across open space with a pack of fighters hot on her tail. Lance glanced back and saw that most of their combatants had split up to pursue the two erratic Lions, and whooped.

"Oh yeah! The power of Disney, for the win! Hey Shiro, Keith, come and kick some honey buns!"

Shiro choked again, and Lance was pretty sure that it was Black and not her paladin that started off in pursuit of Hunk and his train of fighters. Keith muttered something incomprehensible and probably unflattering and tore after Lance. The blue paladin saw flashes of fire approaching from behind and pivoted Blue, joining ice and laser blasts to the fusillade. "Nice of you to join the party!"

"That was some idiot move, Lance!" Keith spun Red, kicking out at a fighter with the Lion's hind legs so that it crashed into another and sent both broken ships careening through space. "What the quiznak were you thinking?"

"Hey, dude, it worked!" Lance swept around the outside of the pack of fighters, who were now rather neatly corralled between the two Lions. "Hey, Pidge, Allura, how're you guys doing?"

Several grunts and a crash came from the girls' end. Keith cut in, tone edged with concern. "Guys, I thought you were going for stealth!"

"Sorry!" Lance heard Allura's staff impact someone's armor. "We kind of got ambushed, we're working on it."

"Do you need help?" Shiro got out, still a bit breathless from laughing.

"We're good!" Pidge's voice was tight but confident, with a sharp smirk audible even over the comms. "Ladies do not start fights, but they can finish them!"

For the second time in as many minutes, there was a shocked silence. Then from Red's cockpit the solid _thunk_ of a head hitting a control panel as Shiro again sputtered into helpless laughter. "Guys, you've gotta stop, I can't fight like this…"

"Hey Pidge!" Hunk called, "if you disable the shield around the ion cannon I can take it out."

Electricity crackled, and someone yelped. "On it."

"Wow, Pidge," Lance smirked, "you fight almost as well as a man."

"Funny." More crackles, and a scream. "I was gonna say the same thing about you!"

"You'll need a clear path in," Shiro said to the yellow paladin; Lance could still hear his leader's grin, though the older man was doing his best to keep his mirth under control. "I can take out the fighters and fly cover."

"Sounds good. I'll follow you."

"All right then." The sound of Shiro's grin became more pronounced as Black pivoted and shot toward the cruiser, jawblade at the ready. "Let's do this. To infinity and beyond!"

Lance's jaw dropped. Then he threw back his head and whooped. "Yeah, Shiro!"

Pidge cackled with glee. "That's how you do it!"

"Guys!" Keith yelled, "What. Even!"

"Ohhh!" For a supposedly mature, brilliant pilot, Shiro could do an excellent six-year-old impression. "You threw off my groove!"

More howls erupted from the yellow, green, and blue paladins. Lance wiped tears of laughter from his eyes and spun Blue toward Red. "I'm sorry, but you've thrown off the black paladin's groove! Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow!"

"Wha—" Keith saw him coming too late, and the Lions crashed into each other. Red went tumbling before he and his paladin could right themselves. "Lance! What the h—"

"Ah ah ah, language!" Shiro definitely had an ear-to-ear grin as he smashed through a final cluster of fighters. "All right, Hunk you're up. Pidge, you got that shield down?"

"I think I found the right lever, hang on!"

Hunk, barreling toward the ion cannon, suddenly cried out and barely dodged a concentrated blast from the cannon's shield. "Hey! Wrong lever!"

"Gah! Sorry!" From the sound of it Pidge was clicking away at a keyboard while Allura dragged broken sentries and Galra bodies out of the hall. "Argh, why do they even have that lever… Okay, here you go!"

The shield rippled, then dissolved, and Yellow dove for the cannon. "Keep me covered, guys!" Hunk called to the others. "I'll handle the gun!"

"How're things on your end, Allura?" Shiro asked as Black, Blue, and Red circled up to keep the fighters away from Yellow. "Have you located the prisoners?"

"They're two decks below us," the princess replied. She sounded a bit breathless from the the fight, but her voice was firm and clear. "Pidge is extracting information from the command center now; we'll head down there once she's done."

"Hey, Shiro!" Hunk cut in. "I can't just smash this thing over, it's too thick. Could you lend your jawblade down here?"

"Sure thing."

The black and yellow paladins hacked away at the base of the cannon while Keith and Lance kept the fighters off their backs. Meanwhile the girls finished their work in the bridge and headed for the prison deck. Pidge reported that they'd found over forty prisoners and, since not all of them would fit in the Green Lion, they'd led the fitter ones to the cruiser escape pods. "We're launching them now. Just get that cannon out of commission! Green's fast enough to get out of the way if they fire at her, but the pods aren't!"

"We're almost done!" Shiro did a final pass in Black, leaving a glowing gash across its supports. "Think you can take it out now, Hunk?"

"You bet! Just get clear!"

Black swept up to join Blue and Red as Yellow's claws and booster rocket blazed into being, and the team heavy braced himself against the base of the cannon.

"Skadoosh!"

With a shudder of snapping metal, the cannon trembled, then tipped drunkenly sideways. Lance watched it drive through the center of the cruiser with Yellow's full force behind it and punched the air to Shiro and Pidge's renewed laughter. "Boo yeah!"

"Anything is possible when you have inner peace." The beaming yellow paladin lumbered in a victory arc with the exploding cruiser as his backdrop. "Hey, Pidge, Allura, you guys good?"

"Pods are clear," the princess replied. "We'll meet you back at the Castle."

"All right." Shiro had the stifled humor back in his voice again. "We did not die today. I call that an unqualified success!"

Gathering back together to head to the Castle, the other paladins joined in general laughter. Even Keith added a reluctant chuckle. "Really, guys, what even was all that?"

"The power of Disney, man!" Lance grinned back.

"In the middle of a fight?"

"Why not?"

The red paladin groaned. "Good grief. I'm surrounded by idiots."

Silence.

" _Keith!_ "

* * *

A/N: This is, quite possibly, the dumbest thing I've ever written. If you can't tell, it was way too much fun. Also, the Voltron team are a pack of ridiculous nerds, and you just know that once they get Allura to Earth for some movie marathons she's going to be the worst of the lot.

I'm not going to even try to list off all the sources of these quotes. There were so many that I kinda lost track. Credit to Disney, Pixar, Dreamworks, and Marvel, I guess?

My brother- and sister-in-law, who _are_ real life Lance and Pidge, do a perfect reenactment of the iconic super suit scene from _The Incredibles_ , so the first part of this chapter was inspired by them. Dialogue tweaks (to that and any other modified quotes) were mine.

The credit for Keith's parting shot goes to FaceplantNINJA.

Oh yeah, and unless specified these oneshots don't happen at any particular point in the series.

Please review!


	3. The Great Sock Quest

_No, no, no, no, no…_

Pidge knelt beside her dresser, frantically dumping the contents of its drawers onto the floor. She didn't have all that many clothes, but out of necessity they'd had the aliens at this one coalition planet make them a few spares. The paladins had had to spend several hours in their armor while the Daminarini examined and measured their clothes—and then, because apparently their new allies were _extremely literal_ , they got _exact duplicates_ of said clothes.

Go figure.

But, okay, they hadn't been _exact_ duplicates. Pidge could tell which were her original clothes by texture, little snags and idiosyncrasies here and there… and sure, they all looked the same, but she still preferred her old clothes. It sort of felt like wearing a little piece of home.

But at the moment, that was the problem. Because _her sock was missing._

Not one of the alien-made replacements. She couldn't care less about those. But only _one half_ of the _genuine article_ had been there when she'd opened her drawer to get dressed this morning, and there was _no way she was going to let this stand._

Drawers emptied. No sock. She sat back on her heels, glaring at the clothing mixed into the piles of gadgetry she'd dumped on the floor in the course of her search. Think. Okay. She'd had it yesterday, she'd taken it off, and—

 _Lance_.

The blue paladin had visited her room as she was getting ready for bed the night before to see if she wanted to play a video game. She'd been tempted, but had ultimately declined on the grounds of the late hour and the training regimen the team had planned for the next day. He'd only been in there a couple minutes, but he'd picked up several things from her piles, she remembered. Mostly just looking them over, but…

 _I think I'd taken my socks off. What if he—?_

Lance, pass up the opportunity for a prank? Yeah. It fit.

 _If you took my sock, Lance, you are going to_ regret _it._

She leaped up and stormed out the door, grabbing her lone sock on the way out. The castle floor was chilly under her bare feet as she headed for the kitchen. Green sensed her fury from the bay and reached out, questioning. Pidge shook her head. "No, it's not something you need to worry about. It's just someone being irritating."

The Lion withdrew, satisfied, leaving only a feeling that translated as _don't do anything too crazy._

 _Well. Guess we'll have to see about that._

For all their sleek tech-ness, sliding doors sometimes just didn't cut it. For example, they didn't allow you to slam them back for dramatic effect when you were in a temper. Pidge settled for the next best option, folding her arms and fixing her face in a dark glower as the door to the kitchen slid open and afforded her a view inside.

Breakfast at the Castle was usually a relaxed affair. Nobody bothered going to the formal dining hall, and although Hunk often prepared something to serve everyone came and went as their morning routine permitted. At the moment everyone except Keith was gathered around the island, apparently in the middle of a funny story courtesy of their resident chef. The conversation stopped, however, as the green paladin stalked toward Lance with menacing purpose. The tall boy saw her coming and tried for a grin. "Morning, Pidge, how're—"

"Where. Is. My. Sock."

Lance blinked. "Uh… what?"

"My _sock_." Pidge leaned forward with narrowed eyes and jabbed him in the chest. "You were in my room last night, and now it's _gone_. I want it _back_."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Lance held up his hands. "I never touched your sock!"

"Well, it's gone, and you were the last one around it besides me!"

"I didn't take your sock!"

"Oh really? You think it's _funny_?"

"Seriously, Pidge, it wasn't me!" Lance put his hands on his hips and glared back. "Why would I take your sock anyway?"

"I don't know, a joke? You hid Keith's jacket before!"

"That was different, it's Keith! And what's the big deal, anyway? I thought you had plenty of socks."

"I've got the ones the Daminarini made, but this is the real one! I want it _back_!"

"Okay, sure, fine, except I can't _give_ it back, because I didn't _take_ it." The blue paladin leaned in to glare almost nose to nose with his teammate. Pidge stuck out her chin, and shoved him.

"Nobody else came in last night, so you—"

"Guys!"

The two paladins jumped and turned, a bit guiltily, toward Shiro. The older man frowned at them over his plate of space eggs. "Bickering like that won't solve anything. Pidge, I understand you want your sock back, but yelling at people isn't going to help. Now, where was the last place you had it?"

"My room!" Pidge snapped, ducking her head. "It's not like I undress anywhere else!"

"Wait, didn't you take your shoes off in the lounge last night?" Hunk chipped in. "I remember you had your legs crossed but you said your shoes were uncomfortable."

Pidge opened her mouth to contradict him—and then closed it. "Oh. Um… yeah. I did. I… I guess I took my socks off, too."

"See?" Lance flung up his hands. "I didn't take your stupid sock!"

Shiro raised a warning eyebrow. "Lance…"

"Sorry." The blue paladin folded his arms, looking belligerent but chastened. "I didn't mean to snap. Just… don't go around accusing people of stuff and yelling at them, okay?"

"Okay. I'm sorry." Pidge frowned, looking into memory. _I was sitting on the couch, and Coran was telling us about that thing at the academy, and the boots were pinching…_ "I just… I really want to find that sock."

"Why is this sock so important?" Allura inquired. She hadn't done her hair yet, and it fell like a confused white cloud over her shoulders and nightgown. She kept having to push a few strands out of the way in order to take bites of her breakfast. "I thought the Daminarini made you several pairs."

"They did, but this is the original one. It…" Pidge swallowed. "It was a gift from Matt, the Christmas before he left for Kerberos."

"Well, why didn't you tell us that in the first place?" Lance snagged her shoulder and headed for the door, making her stumble as she tried to keep up with his long legs. "Come on, let's go look for it!"

They went straight to the lounge and began a top-to-bottom search, lifting cushions and peering into cracks. The others gradually drifted in and joined them, and if she hadn't been so focused on finding her missing sock Pidge probably would have laughed at the sight—an alien princess, her assistant, and the five pilots of the most powerful warrior in the universe all on their hands and knees, looking under furniture and behind panels on a quest for an unimportant piece of clothing. Keith, who'd wandered in from the training room, finally sat back and ran frustrated fingers through his hair. "If this wasn't the last place you remembered it I'd swear it wasn't here. We've must have looked _everywhere_. Maybe you took it off in your Lion's bay or something? You were down there most of yesterday."

"No, I always keep my shoes on there in case I need to climb up to check something." Pidge chewed her lip and surveyed the room, the couch cushions now in disarray. "Maybe one of the mice took it?"

"I can ask them." Allura's eyes went distant for a moment. Then she shook her head. "They haven't seen it, but they're coming here to help look." She slanted a glance at Pidge. "What _does_ it look like, exactly? That might help."

"Oh! Sorry!" Pidge reached into her pocket and pulled out the sock she did have. "Here's its match."

The others gathered around to see. Hunk's lips twitched. "Are those… pigeons?"

The sock was the sort that comes halfway up the shin so as to better hide under the tops of her shoes, with a dark grey heel and toe and a lighter grey body. The color was a bit faded from use, and the ball was by now rather threadbare, but the pattern was still obvious—a veritable flock of thread-made pigeons, flying and perching and preening from hem to toe. Pidge blinked a the bit of cloth in her hand and had to smile, just a little. "That was his nickname for me—I got my Garrison name from it. Used to drive me crazy, or at least I pretended it did. Mom and Dad always called me Katie, but…"

"Hey." Lance bumped her shoulder. "Don't worry, we'll find it."

In the end it was Shiro who spotted the missing sock. The black paladin was flat on his stomach, face squashed up against the base of the couch as he peered through one of the support panels, when he waved a hand at the others. "Hey, guys, I think I see it!"

They all crowded around, trying—and once or twice failing—not to step on their leader. Allura pressed an eye to a crack in the seat. "I can see it too!"

"Can anyone get a hand in there?" Lance asked, trying to squeeze in next to Shiro.

"I don't think so." The eldest paladin grunted as Lance's knee bumped his ear and pried himself up onto his elbows to look up at Allura, blinking as some of her wild mane of hair fell into his face. "I have no idea how it got jammed so far down there, but there's no way I can reach it. Maybe the mice…?"

"Good idea!"

The four little furred creatures squeezed their way under the couch. For retrieving a haphazardly dropped piece of clothing the removal took an impressively long time, and Hunk, Lance, and Allura all applauded when the mice finally reappeared with Pidge's sock in tow. Pidge gratefully picked up the bit of cloth and scratched behind the mice's ears, grinning at the circle of smiling faces around her. "Thanks guys. I really didn't want to lose that."

Coran twirled his mustache and winked cheekily at her. "Not a problem, Number Five! Just, you know…" He waved a hand. "Be a little more careful where you put things next time?"

Hunk pried himself up from his seat on the couch. "Well, I'm super glad Pidge has her sock back and all, so if you don't mind, I think I'm going to go have another round of breakfast. All that crawling around has me hungry again."

"Dude, you're always hungry!" Lance flashed Pidge a grin and hared after his big friend. "Though I wouldn't mind another waffle. If you're making them, anyway."

"So you're gonna mooch off me, huh?"

"No, I'm going to savor your amazing cooking. Tell him, Coran."

"As one chef to another, young paladin, I have to second Number Three. There is nothing quite like someone taking real delight in the fruit of your labors."

"Which is just a fancy way to say that you're gonna mooch my food."

"Is not!"

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really!"

"Well, I _will_ make you waffles—"

"Whoo! Yes!"

"—but _only_ because I don't want you ruining my waffle iron by burning stuff in it."

"That was _one time!"_

"You know," Shiro chuckled as he watched the green paladin happily pull on her matching socks, "I don't think you've had breakfast yet yourself."

Pidge blinked at him, then grinned sheepishly as her stomach rumbled. "Oh yeah, I haven't. Guess I just didn't notice."

"I only had a couple pieces of toast before training." Keith stretched his arms, wincing as his elbows popped. "How about we all go get some of Hunk's waffles?"

"Would that mean we're all…mooching?" Allura asked, looking between them all. "And what does that word really mean, anyway?"

Shiro laughed and held out a hand to help her off the couch. "It means pretty much exactly what Coran said. Just, you know, someone else does all the cooking, and then you eat it."

"How is that any different from any other meal?"

"Not sure. You'd have to ask Hunk about that one."

"So." Keith stood by the door, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. "Waffles?"

Pidge fell into step alongside her friends, her socked feet slipping a bit against the castle floor.

 _I don't think I'm going to put on shoes today._

"Yeah, I could go for that."

* * *

A/N: Written because I'm pretty sure socks have superpowers, and they use them to be super irritating.

Please review!


	4. Pizza Wars

Keith paused in the hall outside the kitchen, sniffing the air. _Is that…?_

The kitchen was almost always filled with interesting fragrances thanks to Hunk's cooking, although the paladins had usually never smelled most of them before. This time, however, Keith had been arrested on his way to the training deck by a scent that was tantalizingly familiar. There was no way the yellow paladin had managed to concoct such a beloved dish from space ingredients. No way. Absolutely.

Right?

Curiosity overcame logic, and Keith stepped into the kitchen. Hunk was in the act of pulling a tray from the oven, while two more were already cooling on one of the counters. Allura waved from her perch on another counter as the red paladin entered. "Hi Keith, Hunk was just introducing me to this earth dish. It is quite delicious!"

Keith looked from the princess, to the pizzas, to the grinning yellow paladin, and walked slowly up to stand directly in front of Hunk. The other boy's smile became slightly nervous as he approached. "Uh, Keith, what are you—"

Keith put his hands on Hunk's shoulders and gave him a light shake. "You. Are. _Amazing_."

"I mean, thanks, but I only cooked some pizza—"

"That's not cooking, that's sorcery." Keith released his friend to stare at the perfect, round, beautiful pizzas that covered the counter. "Hunk, we're in space, a billion miles from anything any normal person would use to make pizza. This—" He waved a hand at the edible glory in front of him. "I can't even… you're _fantastic_ , you know that, right?"

"Uh, sure, buddy." Hunk looked a bit dazed by the praise but held out a plate with a hopeful grin. "You want some?"

" _Oh_ yeah." Keith's mouth watered as he looked over the pizzas, trying to decide which to have first. Hunk had put different toppings on each, and while they looked a bit different from those on Earth that one was _probably_ space pepperoni, and that one was mushrooms and onions, and that one—

He paused in the act of reaching for a slice and scowled down at one of the pizzas, from which a couple slices were already missing. " _What_ is _this?_ "

"He called it pineapple pizza," said Allura, and now that Keith was looking he saw that the slice she held came from the offending dish. "I quite like it!"

"You…" Keith swiveled toward Hunk. "You've tainted pizza for the rest of the universe by making _pineapple pizza?_ "

"Hey, don't bash pineapple pizza!" the yellow paladin protested. "It's a unique dish with its own special qualities!"

"It's an abomination to the whole idea of pizza!" Keith swept a hand toward Allura, who looked mildly alarmed by this turn of events. "And now you've corrupted an innocent Altean, too!"

"I'm not corrupted!" the princess objected. "I'm just enjoying his cooking! What's so bad about pineapple pizza?"

"It—you—gah!" Keith turned and marched toward the door. Hunk stared after him.

"Hey, where are you going? I thought you wanted pizza!"

"Getting some backup!"

The red paladin's first thought was to find Shiro. After all, the older man had helped and supported him for years; they relied on each other implicitly. But when he finally located his friend on the bridge and told him what had transpired, Shiro only brightened. "He made pineapple pizza? That's amazing! I hope Allura leaves some for me!"

Keith gaped as the black paladin headed eagerly toward the kitchen. "But—you—that's—it's _pineapple pizza!_ "

Shiro blinked at him, realization dawning. "Hang on, are you one of those pineapple pizza haters?"

"Yes!"

"Why? It's delicious!"

Keith stared at the other paladin, contemplated this utter betrayal, and turned on his heel. "Fine. Go enjoy your disgusting excuse for food. I'm gonna go find the others."

He came across Pidge next, but she proved almost as unhelpful. "I mean, I don't like it myself," she said with a shrug, "but that's just me. I'm not bothered if other people want to eat it. Hunk made pizza, though?" she grinned up at him. "That's awesome! Think there's enough for me?"

"Yeah, sure, go knock yourself out." Keith watched her disappear toward the kitchen and growled under his breath. Two potential allies, either a traitor to the cause or refusing to offer support. His was a lonely position, it seemed.

"Wow, Keith, you're making Grumpy Cat look cheerful."

The red paladin looked over his shoulder. Lance had popped his head out of his room and was staring at him, one eyebrow raised. "Aw, thanks, buddy, your just too considerate."

"Oh, I know, always. What's the problem?"

"Hunk made pizza."

"He did?" Lance grinned eagerly and set off in a trot down the hall. "Awesome! Let's go have some!" He hesitated, then, shooting Keith a puzzled look. "Wait, how come pizza has you all gloomy? Are you some kind of pizza-hating creepazoid?"

"What? No!" Keith rolled his eyes. _Seriously, Lance?_ "He made pineapple pizza."

The blue paladin halted completely. "He did what."

"Yeah. And guess what? It's Allura's favorite."

"He gave that quiznaking excuse for pizza to—" Lance made a face that bore striking resemblance to a tea kettle about to boil over. "Ooh, when I get my hands on him—"

"And Shiro likes it too."

"Well, that's it, then. We're deposing him as black paladin."

The two boys marched back into the kitchen side by side, glowering at the pizza party now in full swing around the counter. Lance headed straight for Hunk, arms akimbo. "Hey, dude, what were you thinking? Pineapple pizza, seriously?"

"Not you too," groaned the yellow paladin. "Look, just 'cause you don't like it doesn't mean I can't make it!"

"It's a disgrace to the name of pizza!" Lance flung up his hands. "It's disgusting, and an abomination, and you shouldn't have inflicted it upon poor, innocent Altean taste buds!"

"Well, I don't like pizza at all, so it doesn't bother me." Coran twirled his mustache, watching the proceedings with interest. "The sauce doesn't agree with me."

"Then you're just _weird_ ," Pidge grinned at him. "Really though, Lance, chill. It's not a big deal. Just get your own pizza."

"No, I _won't_ chill," Lance huffed right back. "You shouldn't put fruit on pizza!"

Hunk bridled at that. "It's a complex combination of flavors, and it's very unique and lots of people enjoy it."

"Yeah, I've always liked how the sweet and savory combine." Shiro took a bite of his own slice and continued talking around it, provoking an amused twitch of the lips from Allura. "Especially when you've got lots of cheese, and maybe some ham. It's kinda like cranberry sauce with turkey."

Their cook waved his arms toward their leader. "Thank you, Shiro! See? He likes it!"

Keith smirked and folded his arms. "Hey, nobody's perfect."

"Come on, guys," Shiro protested with a _heaven-help-me_ look upward, "I think you're taking this a bit too seriously. Lance, Keith, why don't you just get your own pizza and let us enjoy ours?"

"You don't understand, Shiro!" Lance mimicked Keith's posture, sticking out his chin belligerently. "Food is morale, and having such morale-destroying stuff around the Castle will tear the team apart!"

The black paladin blinked at him with an expression that said _in exactly what reality does that even make sense?_ Allura stiffened in alarm. "Wait, is pineapple pizza dangerous? Can it really—"

"No, it can't hurt you, or team bonds, or anything else." Pidge narrowed her eyes at Lance. " _Somebody_ is just being a drama queen."

"See, normally, I'd be the first one to agree with that," Keith said with a shrug. "But this time I kinda have to agree. Pineapple pizza should _not_ be a thing. It takes two perfectly appetizing foods and mashes them together in some sort of violation of the laws of nature."

"There, see?" Lance waved an arm toward the red paladin. "Keith's agreeing with me, and you guys know how often _that_ happens. So we must be right!"

Hunk groaned and thumped his head on the counter. "There are so many things wrong with that logic, I don't even know where to start."

"Guys." Shiro looked between the boys with a mild frown. "This is getting a little ridiculous."

"Well, that's because pineapple pizza is ridiculous!" Lance fired back. "We should just put the stuff out the airlock and be done with it!"

Keith shook his head. "No, that would contaminate space. We should incinerate it first."

"Nuh-uh!" Hunk snatched up a spatula and brandished it at them. "You are _not_ spacing my pizza! Or incinerating it!"

"Oh really?" Lance smirked and reached for a mixing spoon, flourishing it dramatically. " _En garde!_ "

He jumped at the yellow paladin, who yelped in surprise and flung up his hands to defend himself. The two chased each other around the counter, thwacking away with their respective utensils as Pidge cackled and Shiro put his head down on the counter with a resigned groan. Allura blinked at the dueling boys' antics. "Is this sort of thing normal when humans argue about food?"

"Not really," Shiro mumbled into the countertop. "Keith, _why_ did you have to encourage this?"

"This is a matter of truth, justice, and the American way, Shiro," the red paladin answered seriously. "If a battle to the death is necessary to resolve it, then so be it."

The older man lifted his head enough to shoot Keith a glare. Keith smirked back, and with a resigned sigh Shiro hauled himself to his feet and headed for the squabbling pair. "Come on, now, guys, knock it off, that's enough…"

Lance and Hunk ignored him, and as Shiro continued to try to break up the fight Keith's eyes lit on a dishtowel left to dry beside the sink. He glanced over at his leader's exposed back, and grinned.

 _Grab, step, shove._

"Gaah!"

Shiro arched his back with a yelp as the wet towel went down the back of his shirt. He managed to extract it after a moment of frenzied scrabbling and narrowed his eyes after Keith, who grinned as he backpedaled toward the door. The black paladin smirked at him, and pounced.

They crashed to the floor in a tangle of arms and legs, each one trying to gain the upper hand. Shiro had the advantages of height and weight, but Keith was wiry, and they'd sparred plenty of times in younger years and since coming the Castle and had a good measure of each other's strengths and tactics. The towel seesawed between them as they mostly tried to grind it into each other's faces. Keith scored particularly well when Shiro's laughter got the better of him and Keith managed to cram part of the towel into his mouth. The older man sputtered and spat, wrinkling his nose at the feel of terrycloth on his tongue, and tried to put Keith in a headlock. "You're gonna pay for that!"

Keith squirmed away and hooked a leg around his friend's knee, trapping it against the ground. "Not if I pin you first."

"Pin me, huh?" Shiro snorted. But his eyes were narrowed with humor as much as challenge as he twisted and grabbed at the red paladin's shoulders. The pair vied for position, each fighting to drive the other to the floor. Both were breathing hard and grinning like maniacs, almost nose to nose as they tried to wrestle each other's shoulders to the ground.

"Never mind, guys, I actually do like pizza!"

Coran's announcement might not have attracted their attention by itself. It was, however, accompanied by a rather spectacular gagging noise. That more than anything caused Shiro and Keith to pause in their contest to look for the noise's cause. Out of the corner of his eye Keith saw that Lance and Hunk had also hesitated in their duel, the blue paladin now wielding a pot lid as a shield in addition to his spoon.

Pidge gagged again, her hand clamped over her mouth and nose. Even Allura looked mildly disgusted as Coran happily munched on a piece of pizza covered in—

"Coran." Hunk sounded like he was either utterly horrified or in actual pain. Maybe both. "What did you put on that?"

"Oh, I added some gubberlabs!" The Altean waved his concoction in Hunk's direction. "You had a good start, I will admit, but it was missing something. The gubberlabs did the trick—just the right bit of flavor!"

The paladins gaped at Coran's pizza, now liberally sprinkled with the worms he'd tried to feed them shortly after they'd arrived at the Castle, and exchanged looks. Keith turned to Shiro and held out his hand. "A truce on pineapple pizza."

The black paladin returned the shake, grip firm. "Agreed. I think we have more important things to focus on."

Five pairs of eyes swiveled toward Coran, who blinked at them and inched backward against the counter. "Uh, guys, what are you doing?"

"Defending the universe." Hunk brandished his spatula as he advanced on the hapless Altean. "We're the paladins of Voltron. That's what we do."

"Er, no, I'm no threat, just a fellow enjoying his meal… Princess, make them stop!"

"I don't know, Coran." Allura folded her arms, tilting her head to regard him with a slight smirk. "I think I have to agree with the paladins on this one."

"But… but… that's not fair!"

Lance leaped onto the counter, stabbing the air with his mixing spoon. "Let's get him!"

Coran yelped and fled down the hall with the five paladins hot on his heels, the laughing princess trailing behind them all.

In the end, Lance and Pidge sat on the Altean advisor while Shiro and Allura looked on in amusement and Keith deposited the offending pizza in the airlock. The red paladin then swept a mock bow to Hunk. "Will you do the honors?"

"With pleasure."

Coran let out a wail as their resident chef gleefully opened the airlock doors. "No, my beautiful creation!"

The others ignored him. Pidge clambered off the ginger to watch the pizza float away into space. "Good riddance. That stuff was disgusting."

"I'll say." Hunk wiped his hands on his pants, eying the disappearing pizza with vengeful satisfaction. "Still, I think all that running around has made me hungry. Anyone want some more pizza? _Normal_ pizza?"

"You're always hungry, buddy." Lance allowed Coran to get off the floor. "But yeah, I could go for some."

Keith grinned. "Just so long as it's not pineapple pizza."

"Hey, more for me, man," Hunk shrugged. "I've got this one with this kinda ham thing that you've just _gotta_ try."

"No worms, right?"

"No worms, I swear to Voltron."

* * *

While it was not the original inspiration for this scene, I used The Fake Redhead's writing prompt #416, "That's not cooking, that's sorcery." She's got a whole bunch of fantastic dialogue prompts; I highly recommend you check her out!

Please review!


	5. For the Longest Time

Every once in a while, they had to stop to get supplies.

Well, "supplies" was a loose term. It covered everything from food, because Hunk flatly refused to let them eat only the nutritionally balanced goo the Castle provided, to spare mechanical parts to gifts for ambassadorial visits. Coran usually led these shopping trips, and at least some of the others usually accompanied him. To accommodate for this they'd developed an allowance system of sorts so the hangers-on could get knickknacks of their own. Lance mostly went to girl-watch, but Hunk usually spent his on exotic foodstuffs while Pidge often picked up some sort of gadgetry to tinker with, and if there was a weapons vendor everyone knew where to find Keith when it was time to go.

Allura and Shiro rarely participated on these excursions unless there was a specific reason for them to tag along, as there always seemed to be more important things to do elsewhere. On this particular day, while the others traipsed off with Coran to a series of secondhand shops and Allura ran diagnostics on the Castle systems, Shiro opted to do some extra solo training. It was always somewhat freeing to have the floor to himself, and he spent almost two hours running basic kicks, strikes, and blocks and going through his forms before doing several rounds with the gladiator. Finally, exhausted, sore, and in dire need of a shower, he dismissed the training programs he had running and headed for the door.

As it slid open he jerked to the side just in time to avoid crashing into Lance. The blue paladin screeched to a halt, arms windmilling as he tried to keep his balance. Shiro grabbed his shoulder to steady him. "Whoa now, what's the matter?"

"Shiro!" Lance braced his hands against his knees, panting. He must have run all the way from the pod bay. "You've gotta come see what Pidge found!"

Unease knotted in Shiro's stomach. "What is it?"

The younger paladin looked up at his leader's concerned expression and grinned. "No, no, it's nothing like that! Dude, we don't just go finding trouble everywhere we go!"

Shiro raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, so we've kinda got a bad track record. But this is a good thing this time!" Lance set off at a trot down the hall, waving Shiro after him. "Come on, she's setting it up in the lounge!"

"I need to get cleaned up first," Shiro protested. "Can I join you later?"

"Fine, but hurry up!"

Mystified, Shiro scrubbed himself down and changed into fresh clothes. Pidge had found several interesting things in her junk shop excursions, true. Some had been quite useful, like the contraption she and Hunk had jury-rigged as a waffle iron, while others, like the fairy lights that now adorned their resident tech geek's room, had been more for entertainment. But what could have provoked such a reaction in the blue paladin?

He was still puzzling over the matter when he stepped out of the showers and headed for the lounge. As he approached he slowed, listening.

 _What in the world…?_

The door opened to a burst of sound. Keith was leaning against the wall, wearing an in-spite-of-himself grin, while the other paladins and the Alteans had arrayed themselves on the couches with varied expressions of amusement. Center stage stood Lance, gripping a microphone in both hands while an instrumental track of drums and electric guitar blared over two massive speakers. The blue paladin was in fine form as he belted out the lyrics in true rock star style.

 _Don't stop believing  
Hold on to that feeling  
Streetlights, people_

Shiro stared. And grinned. And leaned against the doorframe, still grinning, while Lance went through the final chorus. Then he stepped down to join the others as they applauded their entertainer, elbowing Lance as he passed. "So you've been holding out on us, huh? I didn't know you could sing."

"Who, me?" The younger paladin smirked at him. "I will have you know that I learned from the best."

"Doing off key Shakira songs in the shower doesn't count," yelled Hunk from the far couch.

"Hey, those were not off key!" Lance protested. "And just for that, you're up next."

The yellow paladin caught the mic his buddy tossed to him, looking very much like a deer in the headlights. "No, nonono, I'm not a singer, I don't—"

"C'mon, it'll be fun!" Lance snagged him by the wrist and began hauling him up the steps. "If I sing with you will you do it?"

"Uh…"

"Awesome! What song do you wanna do?"

Shiro flopped down beside Pidge as the two boys began arguing over song choices. "So you found a karaoke machine, huh?"

"Yep!" The green paladin adjusted her glasses, clearly proud of herself. "I have no idea how this guy got it—I guess aliens have been to Earth before and we just didn't know about it? I mean, I guess they had to because of that video game Lance and I got, but… I looked through the songs, and there don't seem to be any after maybe fifteen years ago, and the speakers and such are super outdated, but anyway, this guy had it in the back corner of his shop, and I looked it over and it seemed to still work, so I got it. Thought it could be fun."

"Uh-huh." Shiro raised an eyebrow at her. "You know we're never going to have peace and quiet again, right?"

She blinked innocently. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

He said nothing, just raised his eyebrow higher.

"Yeah, yeah, I know." The girl grinned, unabashed by his amused reproof. "But seriously, it'll be fun. Plus…" She trailed off for just a moment, eyes sliding away as she tried for a nonchalant shrug. "It's a bit of Earth we can have around."

Shiro remembered Matt and Sam Holt humming all sorts of tunes during their trip to Kerberos, and hid a wince. She had a point. Besides… He noticed with a start that his foot had begun to tap out a beat and realized that Hunk was starting his piece.

 _Okay, this_ could _be fun._

The yellow paladin grinned a bit shyly and glanced at the lyrics being fed across the screen. Lance, hanging at his shoulder, gave him an encouraging nudge, and he took a steadying breath.

 _Don't you turn your back on me  
Don't you walk away  
Don't you tell me that I don't care, 'cause I do_

Shiro relaxed back into the couch as Hunk gained confidence and forged through the first verse—not professional by any means, but with a warm, mellow timbre that grew in volume as he eased into the music. Beside him Pidge was smirking at the results of her work, while on his other side Allura looked a bit puzzled but entertained.

Yeah. This _was_ fun.

At the chorus Lance joined in, enthusiastic but careful not to overwhelm his friend.

 _We belong together  
We belong together  
Oh, it's true  
It's gonna stay this way forever  
Me and you_

Between them the two boys finished in fine style. The others applauded their performance, and Coran insisted he have a try next. At first the others balked because he didn't know any Earth songs, but he was game to learn, so they began to toss around song suggestions. Shiro kept his own ideas to himself, rather enjoying the friendly bickering.

"Maybe start with a Christmas carol?" Hunk suggested. "Those are pretty easy."

"Pfft, no way!" Lance waved his arms for emphasis. "You don't do Christmas carols for karaoke! That's completely missing the point!"

"What _is_ the point?" Allura asked. "I mean, this is fun and all, but I'm not sure I really understand."

"The point," Lance shot back, "is to be a rock star!"

"A… rock… star?"

"It's a kind of singer, on Earth," Shiro filled in. "They tend to be rather… dramatic, when they perform."

"So like Lance did earlier."

"Yes! Exactly!" The blue paladin rounded on Hunk. "Which is why we're _not_ going to do _Christmas carols!_ "

"All right, all right!" Hunk raised his hands in surrender. "It was just an idea! Pidge, you got anything?"

Their resident tech geek blinked, momentarily nonplussed. "Uh, I don't know. _Carry on My Wayward Son_?"

" _No_."

"Do _Under the Sea_."

Everyone turned to stare at Keith. The red paladin stared back, expressionless. "What?"

"That's… that's perfect." Lance rubbed his face and turned wide eyes on Coran. "Wow. Yeah. Perfect. Keith, you're a genius!"

"Oh, man." Pidge pulled her knees up to her chest, grinning wickedly. "This is gonna be _great_."

They had a somewhat rocky start. Coran had to be walked through the song once, and then the second time he just spoke the lyrics instead of singing them. Lance restarted the track, explaining once again how to properly do karaoke, and the ginger chewed the end of his mustache. "Sing it. To the melody. Okay, I think I've got it this time." He frowned at the lyrics screen. "Although, what is this song even about anyway?"

"It's a crab trying to convince a mermaid to stay in the—" Lance shook his head. "Never mind, we can tell you the story some other time. Just do the song, okay?"

Coran gripped the microphone. "Okay!"

He plunged into the first verse with gusto, and to everyone's surprise the third time seemed to be the charm. By the time he hit the final chorus he was rather literally in full swing, almost knocking over the speakers as he hopped enthusiastically through his own improvised choreography.

 _Under the sea  
Under the sea  
When the sardine  
Begin the beguine  
It's music to me!_

Everyone else by now was tapping along, with Lance adding his own contribution to the dance routine down between the couches. Hunk and Pidge were singing too, and Shiro spotted Keith drumming his fingers against his thigh in time to the music. The red paladin caught his friend's knowing look and grinned sheepishly.

 _That's why it's hotter  
Under the water  
Ya we in luck here  
Down in the muck here  
Under the sea!_

Shiro added his own voice to the last line along with most of the others, grinning as the upbeat music drew to a close. He was surprised to notice that Allura had joined in too and, as Coran received the congratulations of the younger paladins, turned to her with a smile. "You liked that one?"

"It was so… cheerful." The princess tipped he head, expression warm. "I'm glad Coran got to sing. This really is fun."

"You should have a go."

"Me?" Allura blinked, and smiled the sort of smile people make when they're slightly uncomfortable. "Oh, no, I'm not really a singer."

"None of us are," Shiro replied, a bit surprised at her hesitation. He'd never seen her nervous about getting in front of people before, but then again, singing was rather different from giving a speech. He tried for an encouraging grin. "Go on, you'll enjoy it."

"I don't know…"

"Allura!" Hunk, oblivious to their exchange, waved the princess toward the microphone. "Come on, it's your turn!"

"Really, I'm not a good singer at all," Allura protested, but she leaned forward anyway, fingers flexing against the edge of her seat. "Coran's much better at this sort of thing than I am."

"Hey, we can help you through it," the yellow paladin offered. "I've got an idea for a good one, you could just sing the chorus if you'd like."

"Well… okay…"

Hunk and Lance sandwiched the nervous Allura between them, and the trio launched into Bon Jovi's _Living on a Prayer_. The blue paladin carried the first verse, rocking out to his heart's content, and Hunk joined him during the chorus while Allura murmured snatches as she picked up the words and tune. She caught on fast, though, and by the time they hit the final chorus she was belting right along with them, whole body animated by the pounding music. Shiro grinned and sang along with the others. Even Keith, who'd finally sat down on the opposite couch, joined in, tapping out the rhythm with his boot as his head moved in time.

The trio finished, breathless and laughing, to another round of applause. Allura thanked both her companions and hastened back to her seat, eyes sparkling and a bit flushed from the music. Shiro gave her a friendly bump with his elbow as she sat down. "Hey, you did great."

The princess flashed him a sidelong smile and looked down at her knees, beaming as she tucked a stray bit of hair behind her ear. "Thanks. I… I really did enjoy that. Thanks for encouraging me."

"Any time. And by the way, even if you don't think so, you're a great singer."

She glanced up at him with a hopeful, almost timid expression. "You think so?"

Shiro blinked, startled by the warmth he felt under her gaze, and smiled. "Yes, I do."

Her eyes dropped again, though a shy little smile remained. "Thank you."

"Hey Keith." Pidge's grin was wicked. "Remember the other day?"

The red paladin blinked. "What?"

"You know, during training?"

Shiro narrowed his eyes, looking between them. He vaguely recalled the pair doing some partner training a few days before, but they all did rotations in pairs so there was nothing unusual about that. _Did something happen?_

Slowly, Keith broke into a wide, edged grin. "Oh, yeah. Let's do this."

He jumped up and headed for the mic, with a smirking Pidge hot on his heels. "Hey, Lance, hand it over. Our turn!"

The blue paladin gaped as their resident emo and nerd claimed the limelight. "You… but… seriously?"

"Go buckle up, buttercup," Pidge grinned. "You gonna learn today!"

"What is even going on?" Hunk looked completely bewildered by this turn of events while Keith and Pidge put their heads together over the screen. "Did someone do something to them when we weren't looking?"

"Beats me." Lance dropped onto the couch beside Shiro. "Hey, guys, what song are you doing anyway?"

"Oh, you're gonna know this one." Keith grinned at Pidge. "Ready?"

"Take it away."

 _Stomp stomp clap. Stomp stomp clap._

Shiro stifled a groan as Pidge and Keith's wicked grins stole across the other paladin's faces too. He could even feel one forming on his own. _Nope. No peace or quiet, ever again._

Within seconds all five humans were stomping and clapping along, and the slightly puzzled Alteans joined in after a moment's hesitation. Keith gripped the microphone as Pidge led the percussion, and grinned at them.

 _Buddy you're a boy make a big noise  
Playin' in the street gonna be a big man some day  
You got mud on yo' face  
You big disgrace  
Kickin' your can all over the place._

Shiro exchanged looks with Lance and Hunk. Yep. They all knew what to do next.

 _We will we will rock you!  
We will we will rock you!_

The shouts shook the room, startling Allura and Coran as all five paladins roared out the time-honored chant. Shiro grinned and shrugged at the Alteans. Some things you were almost honor-bound to do, and this was one of them.

Keith led them through the song with an enthusiasm that amazed Shiro, going so far as to punch the air with a "Yeah, Zarkon!" during the second chorus. The lounge trembled with the shouts and the stomping feet, which only grew louder as the Alteans caught on. Allura in particular put some enthusiasm into her contribution after the chant was associated with Zarkon, and they charged into the final chorus with unbelievable volume. Pidge then did a rather spectacular air guitar to the cheers of Lance and Hunk, and high fived Keith as they headed back to the couches. "Whoo, that felt good. I can't believe we haven't used that yet in a fight!"

Keith smirked. "Yeah, I think that kinda one-ups your 'I say Vol' chant, Lance."

The blue paladin flopped back against the cushions. "Hey, that chant is still awesome, don't get me wrong, but I will always yield my claim of best battle chant to the almighty Queen."

Allura blinked at them. "But I'm a princess…?"

"No, no, no!" Lance bolted upright, waving frantic hands. "Queen's not—I didn't mean you! Queen wrote that song!"

"Do queens on Earth write songs?"

The conversation devolved into a discussion of bands, and band names, and albums, and all manner of other music jargon. Eventually Lance and Keith got into a heated argument that seemed to center around either Phil Collins or Survivor while Pidge began to tinker with her newest machine, a curious Coran looking on. Hunk snagged Allura to help him bring snacks from the kitchen and the two disappeared down the hall. Shiro drifted over to Pidge, not feeling the desire or the need to break up the two bickering paladins—they were being relatively civil, and the spat was over something harmless, after all—and began poking around the machine's touchscreen. "How many songs does this thing have, anyway?"

"Not sure." Pidge checked over a wire, apparently looking for cracks in the outer sleeve. "It's got a pretty decent library, though. We've been able to find every song we've searched for so far. I even tried some kinda obscure ones earlier, and it had all of them."

Shiro flipped open the song library and began scrolling through at random. The green paladin was right; the number and variety of songs were impressive, spanning the better part of the past century and covering everything from rock to pop to Disney to Broadway. One happened to catch his eye, and he chuckled to himself as he opened up its file to look at the lyrics. "Wow, haven't heard that one in a while."

Pidge popped her head up to look. "Which one is—oh." A slow grin spread over her face. "You know, you haven't had a turn yet."

Shiro chuffed a laugh. "That, is a _terrible_ idea. I'm an awful singer."

"You and Allura. Seriously." The green paladin shoved the mic into his hands and began tapping commands into the screen. "Come _on_ , Shiro, nobody cares if you're not Frank Sinatra! It's just for fun!"

"Is Shiro gonna sing?" Lance's attention swiveled toward them. "What song did you pick?"

Almost in answer, the machine blared out the opening bars.

 _Whoa, oh, oh, oh,  
For the longest time  
Whoa, oh, oh  
For the longest_

The others exchanged grins and began to snap their fingers in time. Shiro looked at all the happy, expectant faces, and almost against his will lifted the mic.

 _If you said goodbye to me tonight  
There would still be music left to write_

His voice wobbled, wasn't loud enough. He cleared his throat, missing half a verse, and tried again. This time he was able to put a bit more air behind the words, and they seemed almost firmer, more sure. More real.

 _I'm so inspired by you  
That hasn't happened for the longest time_

The rhythm was soothing, steadying, and he found himself falling more comfortably into the swing of the beat. Lance gave him a thumbs up.

 _Once I thought my innocence was gone  
Now I know that happiness goes on_

Huh. He hadn't actually thought before he started about how accurate the words were. He grinned back at the smiling faces in front of him, his friends, his team, feeling his confidence growing.

 _That's where you found me  
When you put your arms around me  
I haven't been there for the longest time._

 _Whoa, oh, oh, oh  
For the longest time  
Whoa, oh, oh  
For the longest_

When was the last time he'd sung? It must have been before Kerberos… before the Galra, before the other paladins, before Voltron, before Allura. They'd needed him. She'd needed him. It was… a strange feeling, though not unwelcome. _Needed… wanted…_

 _I'm that voice you're hearing in the hall  
And the greatest miracle of all  
Is how I need you  
And how you needed me too  
That hasn't happened for the longest time._

 _Maybe this won't last very long…_

Keith was smiling. Keith was _smirking_ , and he wasn't looking at Shiro. He was looking behind him.

 _Oh no._

He turned.

Allura stood in the doorway, holding a bowl of… something, he couldn't tell, and she was _smiling_ at him—smiling through a light blush that deepened the pink of her markings. He felt his own face flame, and the rest of the verse choked and died in his throat. For a long moment his brain was unable to form a single coherent thought. He could feel the eyes of the others as the snapping died away behind him.

 _How long has she been listening?_

It didn't matter, any at all was too long, and he'd just been _thinking_ about her, he hadn't meant to, why had he let Pidge talk him into this—

"That's a lovely song, Shiro." The princess tipped her head, that shy little smile making a reappearance. "Why'd you stop?"

The heat in his face went from hot to flaming. "I… uh…"

Hunk stepped around Allura and deftly relieved her of her burden. Shiro could have sworn he glimpsed a knowing grin as the yellow paladin edged past him and down the stairs. "It's still playing, Shiro, keep going!"

Shiro swallowed, and stammered, and clamped his mouth shut. He'd already made enough of a fool of himself, he needed to turn the stupid thing off and—

Allura stepped toward him, movements almost hesitant—but this was _Allura_ , when was she hesitant about _anything?_ —and slipped the mic from his hand. Her shoulder brushed his as she leaned forward to read the lyrics, and stayed there.

 _Who knows how much further we'll go on  
Maybe I'll be sorry when you're gone_

Blue eyes glanced up at him, a question there, an uncertainty. Something clattered into working order in Shiro's brain, and he blinked. _She's wondering if… she's doing it right?_

He leaned in, picking up the verse where she'd hesitated.

 _I'll take my chances  
I forgot how nice romance is  
I haven't been there for the longest time_

The world slowly came into focus again, the circle of beaming faces in front of him, the other paladins' snapping fingers, the shy smile of the princess as she took the next verse.

 _I had second thoughts at the start  
I said to myself  
Hold on to your heart_

The fire in his cheeks was subsiding, replaced by a flush of warmth all through him. Shiro felt his face crack into a broad smile and he joined his hand with hers on the mic, steadying it between them. Allura didn't turn toward him, but she slanted him a smile that he just _knew_ made his ears go pink. He sheepishly returned it and picked up the next lines.

 _Now I know the woman that you are  
You're wonderful so far  
And it's more than I hoped for_

 _I don't care what consequence it brings  
I have been a fool for lesser things  
I want you so bad  
I think you ought to know that  
I intend to hold you—_

— _for the longest time_

Allura joined her voice to his, and her eyes smiled up at him before dropping shyly back to the lyrics. They finished out the song together, heads almost touching as they held the mic between them.

 _Whoa, oh, oh, oh  
For the longest time  
Whoa, oh, oh  
For the longest time_

The track faded out, and for a moment the room hung in breathless silence as the two singers came back to earth, fingers still tangled around the mic. Shiro blinked down at her, realizing with a start that he had an arm around her shoulders. When had that happened? _Why is she standing so close?_ She hadn't done that with Lance and Hunk, what was going on—

The sound of applause jolted him back into reality, and he snapped his head up to stare as a grinning Keith led the clapping. "That was _fantastic!_ "

"Amazing! Brilliant!" Coran cheered them on, mustache giving his own grin a slightly crazed tilt. "Haven't heard anything that good in years!"

"Whoo!" Hunk pumped a fist, hooting his glee. "Yeah! You guys rock!"

Allura blinked at the other paladins and then up at Shiro with a quizzical smile. "Pardon my ignorance, but how, exactly, are we rock?"

"It means you're awesome!" Lance announced. "You guys should start a band!"

Pidge rolled her eyes. "They can't have a band with only two people, genius."

"We can be in it too!" The indefatigable sharpshooter flung his arms wide. "We can call it The _Princess and the Paladins!_ "

"Uh-huh, sure." The girl jabbed him in the ribs, making him yelp. "Did you happen to notice that Shiro and Allura were the ones singing, not you?"

"Hey, we were doing the percussion!"

"Learn how to do all that without a background track, and _then_ we'll think about making the paladin part plural."

Shiro tried to get control of his silly grin, and caught his breath, and eased his arm away from Allura as casually as he could. He was both surprised and slightly alarmed at how reluctant he was to do so, and in an attempt to cover the movement he rubbed at the back of his neck. He couldn't make the grin go away, and to his frustration it slipped from silly to sheepish. "That… was a lot of fun, princess. Thanks."

"No, thank _you_." Allura placed the microphone onto its stand with careful precision, fussing with the wire. He couldn't see her whole face, but the cheek marking he could see was a deeper pink than usual. "I do enjoy this Earth pastime. We should do it more often."

Something about the way she said that… Shiro blinked. "Really?"

She looked up at him then, and smiled, and something tightened in his chest. "Really. You're a good singer, Shiro."

He felt his face flame, and his hand went to the back of his neck again. "Not really, I just…"

"No, you _are_." Allura regarded him with amusement. "Even if you don't think so."

Shiro blinked as she echoed his earlier words and gave her a reluctant grin. "Well… it's not like we're going to get rid of the karaoke machine. Pidge would do something horrible in revenge if we threw out one of her toys."

"She would, wouldn't she?" The princess turned to survey the other paladins with a fond expression. "Lance too, I'm sure. He's been singing more than anyone else." She almost unconsciously stepped in to lean against his shoulder, and Shiro felt a pulse of alarm as he found his arm sliding around her waist on reflex. _No no no, not supposed—not how—what—why—_

Allura looked up at him, probably seeing every panicked thought that was scrambling through his head, and laughed. "Really, sometimes you paladins are just so _dense_."

Before he could come up with an even slightly coherent reply to such a cryptic remark she went up on her toes, kissed him on the cheek, and disappeared down the hall.

Shiro gaped after her, trying to compute what had just happened _. I—she—but why—she_ —what?!

"Hey, Earth to Shiro, come in Shiro, do you copy?"

"I think he's broken. Should we poke him? I think we should poke him."

"He'd probably just fall over. Shiro? Helloooo?"

Shiro blinked, and shook his head, and stared around him. Lounge. He was in the lounge. Keith and Pidge were flanking him, both wearing expressions of great amusement, while Hunk and Lance watched from close by. "Uh…"

"Oh, good, you're alive. I was starting to wonder." Pidge put her hands on her hips and smirked at him. "Wow, if the Galra knew it was _that_ easy to break the black paladin, we'd have lost a _long_ time ago."

His face was on fire. Shiro just knew it. "What? No!"

"Oh yeah." Lance wore one of the most gleeful grins Shiro had ever seen, even if there was a tinge of jealousy beneath it. "One peck on the cheek and you were just _gone_ , dude. I'm pretty sure you weren't even breathing for, like, half a dobosh."

"A lost cause." Hunk threw an arm over the blue paladin's shoulders, sighing dramatically. "If music be the fruit of love, play on!"

"Seriously." Keith regarded his leader with a satisfied smirk. "So, you back from cloud nine yet?"

"Guys, stop!" Shiro waved his hands, trying to stem their enthusiasm even as his heart continued its mad gallop. _Did she really…?_ "It was just a friendly kiss!"

That had the exact opposite effect he'd intended; Pidge and Lance both cackled as Keith rolled his eyes and Hunk stared at him with disbelief. "Seriously, man? She _destroyed_ you."

"'Just a friendly kiss', huh?" The red paladin looked even less impressed. "You, are a _goner_."

"She's your downfall, she's your muse." Lance snatched up the discarded mic, crooning into it despite having no background music. "Your worst distraction, your rhythm and blues!"

"Guys, stop, that's not—"

"Can you feel the love tonight?" Hunk elbowed the blue paladin. "'Cos I sure can."

"Yeah," Lance jabbed a thumb in Shiro's direction, "but he don't have a clue."

Pidge sidled up beside them. "In short, our pal is doomed."

"Unless we convince him otherwise," Keith added, turning a significant look in his leader's direction.

Four pairs of eyes fixed on Shiro with unnerving intensity, and he raised his hands to fend off… what? "Come on now, really, I think you're taking this a bit too seriously."

"I don't know, guys." Pidge tilted her head, her glasses reflecting the light so that he couldn't see her eyes. The effect was slightly unnerving. "Think he needs convincing?"

"Well?" Lance scowled at Shiro. "Do you?"

"Uh…" The black paladin looked between them all, still feeling wary under the scrutiny. "Convincing about what?"

" _Dude_. Song. Kiss. She _likes_ you." Keith folded his arms and raised an unimpressed eyebrow. " _And_ you've been a stammering idiot for the past five minutes."

"Plus you're still red as Keith's jacket," Hunk added. "Seriously, man, are you really gonna keep trying to convince us that that was just a _friendly_ kiss?"

Shiro stared at them. Sighed, and rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a slow, sheepish grin creep across his face. "Well… I mean, I _guess_ you guys are right."

"You guess?" Lance snorted. "Dude, we _know_."

The black paladin allowed himself to be swarmed with enthusiastic chatter, drawn into the circle of his team as they cheerfully ribbed him. His ears were still warm as he remembered the light brush of Allura's lips against his cheek, the laughing light in her eyes. And he smiled to himself.

Yeah. He knew too.

* * *

A/N: I am posting this as a celebration because today (July 22, 2018) marks exactly ten years since I joined FF, so yay!

Yes, I am fully aware that VLD is set in the future. Yes, I know all these songs would probably be super old by their standards. No, I don't care. (Also, VLD seems to use the 20 Minutes into the Future trope. So that's my defense.) In case you're not familiar with any of these amazing songs, they are, in order, "Don't Stop Believing" (Journey), "We Belong Together" (Randy Newman, Toy Story 3 (a fantastic team Voltron song if their ever was one)), "Under the Sea" (from The Little Mermaid), "Living on a Prayer" (Bon Jovi), "We Will Rock You" (Queen), and "For the Longest Time" (Billy Joel). All belong to their creators. Alas, I do not have such talent as they.

If you're looking for a story in a similar vein to this, check out my sister FaceplantNINJA's oneshot "Party Prank," especially if you like Pidge and/or Lotor. It's a fun read!

Finally, a question for you: should I up the story rating to T? In a chapter I have drafted there's a fight and the POV character gets stabbed, and there's a broken neck and… yeah.

Please send me an answer! And even if you don't, please review!


	6. The Chains that Bind Us Part 1

"Not hungry, Keith?"

The red paladin blinked up at Hunk, then back down at his almost untouched plate. "Huh? Oh. No, I'm… it's good, Hunk. Thanks for making it."

"Not what I asked." The resident chef frowned just a little, a worried sort of frown, not an angry one. "We had a rough fight today. Aren't you hungry?"

Keith rubbed a hand across his mouth, contemplating the food in front of him. "I mean, yeah, it's just—Will you cut that out, Lance? That's really bad for you!"

"Hey, chill, dude!" Lance shot his teammate a glare as he crunched down on another ice cube. "I like them, okay?"

"Since when do you like chewing on ice?" Pidge adjusted her glasses, one eyebrow raised. "I don't remember you ever doing that at the Garrison."

"It's kind of a new thing, I guess." The blue paladin folded his arms. "It's cold, and I like it, so gimme a break!"

Hunk held up his hands. "Hey, I didn't say anything." He slanted a concerned look at Keith. "Seriously, though, aren't you hungry? You were really blasting things up out there, you've gotta be starving. I know I am!"

"That's… kinda the problem." Keith sighed. It wasn't like there was any need to hide it. It just felt… a bit weird to talk about this. "Look, whenever I use Red's fire laser, I get this… aftertaste, like hot metal and smoke. It takes a few hours for it to go away. I'm not eating because I can't really taste the food." He quirked a small grin at the yellow paladin. "I want to actually enjoy your cooking."

The others exchanged looks. Keith tried not to hunker down in his chair as puzzlement, worry, and interest flickered around him. Finally Shiro leaned forward, brows knitted over concerned grey eyes. "Thank you for telling us, Keith. It's good for us to know what tolls fighting takes on our teammates."

"So…" Lance drummed his fingers on the table with a thoughtful expression. "Your _Lion_ is the one breathing fire, but _you_ get an aftertaste?"

"The Lions are bonded to their paladins, remember?" Keith shrugged. "It's like when those cubes on Olkarion blasted your ice back at you. Blue's head got frozen, but _you_ got brain freeze."

"Ooh, yeah." The blue paladin winced at the memory. "And when Hunk had a sore back after Yellow held up the ark on Taujeer."

"Maybe that's why you've started chewing on ice," Pidge suggested. "Blue's element is water. She likes ice and cold."

"The Lions and their paladins are separate entities, but the bonds between them…" Allura waved a hand, her expression distant. "My father didn't talk about it much, but from what he did tell me… You and your Lions share each other's quintessence. That's how you are able to communicate. But it does have… other effects." She glanced at Keith. "Now that you mention it, I do remember Father once describing an aftertaste from the fire laser. I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner."

"Hey, not your fault." Keith gave her a wry grin. "And anyway, I'm not sure I'd have believed you at first. It's neat, just… weird."

"So our Lions reflect their elements." Shiro pushed his food around his plate, looking thoughtful. "And we share our Lions' quintessence through our bonds. That's… amazing."

Lance smirked and poked Pidge in the shoulder with his fork. "Good luck doing science to _that_ one!"

* * *

Hunk stirred the last stray bits of flour into the batter. He'd found an alien spice a while ago that, if prepared properly, tasted _almost_ exactly like cocoa, and he was determined to find a way to make a decent batch of space brownies. He poured the batter into the prepared pan and slipped it into the oven, peering through the window at it with a sense of satisfaction. _Okay, probably gonna be about forty-five minutes… need to figure out how many doboshes that is…_

(Seriously, the amount of math he had to do just to function in an alien kitchen? Put the Garrison calc class to shame.)

He turned back to the counter to grab the tablet he used for calculations, but his wrist caught the end of the mixing spoon. The batter-covered utensil flipped through the air wit the bowl right behind it.

 _Spla-thnk!_

Hunk stared at the mess of batter all over the sparkling floor and groaned as he reached for a towel. "Great, just my luck…"

"Everything okay in here?"

"Whoa, whoza—oh, hi Keith." Hunk looked up from his scrubbing as the red paladin appeared around the edge of the counter. "Is there, uh, something I can help you with?"

Keith folded his arms, taking in the mess. "I could be asking you the same thing."

"What, this? Nah, I'm fine." Hunk gave him a strained smile. "Just a little spill, nothing major. You, er, looking for something?"

"Just getting a drink," Keith answered, reaching for a cupboard near the stove. Hunk narrowed his eyes as the other paladin lifted down a small box from the top shelf.

"Ah-hah! So you're the one who's been taking my tea!"

"Sorry, I thought it was for everyone." Keith shrugged an apology and went right ahead with his preparations, setting a pot on the stove to boil. "No offense, but that coffee substitute you came up with just doesn't taste all that great, and I wanted something hot."

"No, no, it's okay." Hunk finished wiping up the batter smudges and deposited the bowl and mixing spoon in the dishwasher. "I was just curious where my stash was going, that's all." He scooped up his tablet and opened the calculator, then hesitated as he realized his concoction had already been cooking for several minutes. "Gah, now I'm gonna be shooting even more in the dark… just fantastic…"

The other paladin raised an eyebrow. "You sure there's nothing I can help with?"

"No, it's nothing, I just didn't do the cooking time calculations as soon as the brownies went in the oven, had to clean up the mess…" Hunk waved a frustrated hand, jabbing at the tablet buttons harder than was necessary. "And this morning I put my shirt on backwards, and my vest was inside out, and it's just been a… an off kind of day, you know?" He sighed, mentally calculating how long it had been since he put the brownies in. _Maybe three minutes since Keith came in… so five total? Yeah, I'll go with that_. "I've been having a lot of those days lately. It's just… frustrating."

"I know what you mean." Keith toyed with a mug, eying the other boy thoughtfully. "Any idea what might be causing it?"

"I don't think anything's _causing_ it really, I'm just having a string of bad days, I guess." Hunk tapped in an equation that was his and Pidge's best extrapolation for converting minutes to doboshes. It wasn't too complicated but he wanted to get it right, and most of his attention went into the task as he continued to ramble more to the air than to the other paladin. "And it's been a while since we were on a planet, you know? I mean, the Castle's great, and it's so big it's not like I've got cabin fever or anything, it's just… we've been surrounded by _space_ for so long. It's kind of unsettling."

Keith's jaw worked as he mulled that over. "So… you miss being on a planet."

"Well, yeah?" Hunk shrugged, checking his calculations. _Thirty-two doboshes. And the brownies have been in for about… three doboshes. So twenty-nine more to go._ "I mean, we're planet people. Not planets, that's not… we're _from_ a planet. Exploring space is cool and all, but there's nothing quite like a solid surface under you that isn't a man-made piece of metal hurtling along at hundreds of miles an hour."

"So _that's_ why you didn't want to do that spacewalk yesterday."

"Um, duh? Who wants to be floating in a void with nothing under them?" The yellow paladin scooped up the timer and entered the amount he wanted. "I mean, I _did_ it. I can do it just fine. I just don't _like_ it."

"No, no, I think I get it." Keith poured the hot water into his mug, watching color leech from the leaves trapped in the tea strainer. "Space is… intimidating."

Hunk let out a rush of air, relieved. "Yeah, that's _exactly_ it. Uh, could you, er, move over? I need to get in the fridge, Pidge said she was craving a salad."

The red paladin slanted an odd smile at him and stepped away from the refrigerator door, then leaned back against the counter as he swirled the contents of his mug. "By the way, I don't mean to change the subject, but… a while back I picked up this really cool rock on one of the planets we stopped at, and I thought one of you sciencey types would appreciate it more than I do. I'm gonna go hit the training deck; can I drop it off in your room on the way?"

"Uh…" Hunk blinked. "Sure. Just leave it on my bed."

The brownies turned out very well. So did Pidge's salad. And when Hunk finally made it to his bedroom that evening he found on his pillow a chunk of rose quartz perhaps half the size of his palm, rough around the edges and banded through with glittering black and grey stone. He rolled it around in his hand, savoring its untainted solidity.

It was in his pocket all the next day, and the day after that, and the one after that. Whenever he felt snappish or out of sorts he'd reach his hand in and rub his fingers over the stone's surface, and somehow its presence, its unchanging durability, soothed his fraying nerves. Once or twice when he was stroking it he caught Keith giving him a knowing look, but the first time Hunk shot him a grateful smile, and the red paladin smiled back and said nothing more about the matter.

At least, to Hunk.

They landed on a planet about a week later to meet with a band of rebels. It was a stormy, windy place, and most of them stayed inside as much as possible, but Pidge and Lance went on one excursion to take a look around. When they came back, grinning and dripping wet, Pidge almost shyly came up to Hunk and held out her hand. "We found this and, er, I thought you'd like it."

Mystified, Hunk picked up the offered item—a pale grey bit of stone maybe as big as his thumb, worn smooth by years of wind and water. It was beautiful, in a simple, solid sort of way, and Hunk blinked down at it as he traced its curved surface. "Uh, thanks Pidge."

"No problem."

The green paladin darted off with unusual alacrity and Hunk stared after her, suspicion starting to bloom. He turned to eye Keith, who stood next to Shiro as their leader conversed with one of the rebel leaders. The red paladin was watching him sidelong, and when Hunk caught his gaze he rolled his eyes and shrugged, flashing a small half grin.

Nobody said anything more about it. But every time they landed somewhere new, Hunk got a new rock.

He kept them all, and one was always in his pocket.

* * *

"You okay?"

Shiro blinked and looked up from the tablet he'd been reading. "Huh?"

"You keep… I don't know, gasping. Breathing really deep. Whatever." Lance tapped a finger against his sweating glass of ice water and squinted at his leader. "It's like you're not breathing right."

"I feel fine." The black paladin frowned, calling to conscious thought one of those basic bodily functions that you don't notice unless you think about it. And… huh. _Weird_. "I guess I'm just taking deeper breaths than usual, or something. It's not a big deal."

"You sure? You keep doing it."

"Pretty sure. I mean, there's nothing particularly wrong about needing more air, is there?"

"I suppose not." Lance sipped at his drink, expression still a bit suspicious. Then he raised a disbelieving eyebrow as his gaze shifted to stare over Shiro's shoulder. "Uh, _what_ are you doing?"

Shiro looked behind him. And blinked again.

Keith glared at them both, wrapped in a blanket that covered most of his head and trailed down to the floor, forming a kind of train behind him as he stomped down the steps. "I'm _cold_. This is what people do when they're cold. And no, I do not have a fever, I just have a high normal temperature." He dropped onto the couch, scowling. "Pidge already dragged me to the infirmary to check. _Very_ thoroughly."

"You're _cold?_ " Lance said, voice dripping disbelief. "It's almost too warm in here!"

"That's 'cause you're just weird." Keith raised an eyebrow at the blue paladin's oversized glass. "I mean, that thing is _huge_ , and I saw you refill it twice while I was helping Hunk with those cookies! What's the deal, you wormholing to a desert when we're not looking?"

"Hey, it's not a crime to be thirsty!"

Shiro sighed as the two younger paladins devolved into bickering. _Not getting any more reading done for a while._

* * *

Pidge rubbed her aching leg, and sighed. She'd been working at her station for most of the day, refining her "Galra tracker," as the others insisted upon calling it. (Uncultured swine.) And that was great. She loved working with tech. But restlessness itched at her, and the need to get up and move around and _explore_ something was getting unbearable.

Giving in, she swung her feet over the edge of her chair and strapped her crutches onto her arms. Unlike under-the-arm Earth crutches, the ones Coran had found for her in a med bay closet cradled the forearm, distributing her weight and putting less stress on her joints. It amazed her that such a design wasn't a thing on Earth. She eased herself into a standing position with ginger care, favoring her sore right leg. Three days ago they'd tangled with a couple Galra cruisers, and in the confusion of the battle she and Green had accidentally gotten trapped between them. As they'd scrambled to get away one of the cruisers had fired at them with its ion cannon.

They'd dodged. Mostly.

Pidge winced, remembering the explosion of searing pain through her right hip as Green's leg and hindquarters took the glancing blow. She'd almost gone to the floor with what felt like the worst charley horse of all time, every muscle from hip to ankle gripped in a spasm beyond what she could bear. The others had rushed in to cover them as Green limped to the fringes of the battle, and when Shiro had carried her out of the cockpit afterward Pidge had blinked through her tears of pain and gaped at the damage to her Lion. The top of Green's right hind leg was stripped almost to the frame, burnt and twisted and horribly disfigured. It was then she'd realized that, although she'd felt her Lion's agony, Green had done her best to shield her from the worst of it. Aside from the pain and cramps and some bruising on her thigh, she'd sustained no real injuries.

 _Thanks, girl._

Now the Lion sat on the far side of the bay, shield up to facilitate her repair mode. Pidge could see occasional ripples of quintessence as Green slowly stitched herself back together. The process puzzled and amazed her, for already much of the damaged frame was no longer visible, covered with new plates that appeared as the quintessence flowed and ebbed. Matter just _didn't_ come spontaneously into being like that. Or at least it wasn't supposed to. _But we can summon our bayards, and their weapons materialize from our quintessence, and so do Voltron's power-ups…_

All of which suggested a link between matter and quintessence that she just wasn't up to puzzling out right now. With a wave to Green, she left the bay and headed in a random direction.

These restless spells had grown oddly frequent, and to assuage them Pidge had taken to exploring the Castle. The ship was _huge_ , so she was in no danger of running out of new nooks and crannies to discover any time soon. But today it didn't seem like she was going to check anything else off the list, because as she rounded a corner she saw a tasseled blanket lying in the middle of the hallway.

 _What…?_

Glancing around, she just glimpsed Allura disappearing down the passage that led to the princess' bedroom. The older girl seemed to be carrying a big stack of something. Maybe she'd dropped the blanket? _Best guess I'm gonna have…_

It took a bit of maneuvering to get low enough to scoop the blanket over her shoulder, but Pidge managed it. Then she set out after Allura, the tapping of her crutches echoing through the empty hall. The sound was slightly ominous and a bit lonely, really. If her expeditions around the Castle had taught her anything it was that there were supposed to be a _lot_ more people living here. Hundreds, maybe thousands. Not seven. But her efforts at speed proved unsuccessful, and she arrived outside Allura's door quite out of breath without having caught up to the princess. Her knock, however, received an immediate answer, and the door glided open to reveal Allura in the middle of replacing her bed linens. The Altean had one knee braced against the bedframe as she wrestled with the corner of a fitted sheet, and she looked up with a somewhat flustered expression. "Hello, Pidge, can I help you?"

Pidge fished the blanket from her shoulder and held it out. "I think you dropped this?"

"What? Oh!" The other girl's eyes widened. "I hadn't realized! Thank you for bringing it back!" She frowned at the sheet she had gripped in both hands. "Just give me a minute…"

"Where do you want it?" Pidge tapped her way inside, looking around for a good place for the blanket. "You're kinda busy at the moment. Fitted sheets are the _worst_."

"They really are." Allura glanced about the room. "Just drop it over the back of that chair."

Pidge complied, wincing as her leg suddenly cramped. The princess noticed. "Is your leg bothering you?"

"A bit. Mind if I sit down?"

"Not at all."

The green paladin dropped gratefully onto the chair, fingering the blanket tassels. They were long and soft, each one an array of colors from the blanket's threads, and she absently began to braid and unbraid one of them as she watched Allura wrestle the sheet into submission. It was nice in here. The princess's room was, understandably, larger than the paladins', with a soaring ceiling that had strategically placed lights to give it a kind of glow. Pidge suddenly wondered how the fabric of the bedding and clothes had lasted through ten thousand years. Maybe the whole Castle had been in some kind of stasis that was broken when the to-be paladins had shown up.

 _Once upon a time, there was a princess…_

"What are you smiling about?"

Pidge blinked, and grinned at Allura's puzzled expression. "Just an old Earth story. It's about this princess who pricks her finger and falls asleep…"

* * *

Lance finished his post-workout scrub and turned his face to the shower head, closing his eyes as he let the water run over him. Several hours of training and exercise, a grueling study of battle tactics and strategies… his body hurt. His _brain_ hurt. And the water felt so _good_. Earlier, when he'd overheated during training, he'd taken a dip in the pool to cool off (Allura had given them all lessons in the art of Altean swimming pools after he and Keith had complained about their mishap). It had been glorious to plunge into the water, all but losing himself in the cool depths, and for a moment he'd had no idea where the surface was, as if the world was nothing but water and he could drift in it forever. Now he just stood, and soaked, and let the cascade drench him, easing his aches and weariness. The showers were wonderfully quiet since the others had already washed up and left, and he closed his eyes to better enjoy the sound of splashing water.

"Lance? You still in here?"

Lance jumped, and a bit guiltily stuck his head out of the shower curtain. "Yeah, Shiro, it's me. You finished?"

"Just wrapped up." The black paladin mopped his face with a towel and began taking off his vambraces and gloves. Lance could see fatigue tremors in his hands. "Wanted to go through some old forms with an open floor." He raised an eyebrow at his young compatriot. "How long have you been in there?"

"Not sure, to be honest." Lance shut off the water with a twinge of regret and reached for his towel. "I was done cleaning up, just enjoying the water."

"It _is_ refreshing." Shiro bent to pull off his boots and greaves. "I hope you left some hot water for me."

"Don't worry, I left plenty." Lance quirked a grin. "Not so sure about Keith, though."

The black paladin laughed. "Hey, I can't grudge him a hot shower. There's nothing quite like one."

Lance rolled his eyes and ducked into one of the changing rooms with his bundle of clothing. "Sez you, maybe. Gimme a cold shower any day."

He dried himself off and climbed into his casual clothes, taking a couple extra minutes once he finished dressing to adjust a shoelace that had been giving his toes pins and needles. Finally satisfied, he stepped out of the little changing room and was surprised to see Shiro still struggling with his armor. The other paladin twisted an arm in an attempt to get at a shoulder clasp, and winced. "Ow. Okay, I think I pushed my shoulders a little too hard today. Would you mind getting the pauldrons for me?"

"No problem." Lance crossed over to his friend and went to work on the clasps. They weren't difficult to undo, especially if you weren't having to turn yourself into a pretzel to reach it, and he pried both plates loose without issue. "There, you're good. Want help with any of the others?"

"I think I'm good on the rest." Shiro turned a slight frown on him. "Are you feeling okay?"

Lance blinked. "I mean, I'm sore, but… yeah, why?"

"Your hands are _freezing_."

"I had the water kinda cold."

"But you've been out long enough to warm up." Shiro felt Lance's hand, then his forehead, still frowning. "You're definitely on the chilly side. Not a lot, but… your fingers are _really_ cold."

Lance shoved his hands into his pockets, offering a shrug. "It's no big, I've got a low body temp. At least, that's what Hunk says. I can't figure out how to interpret that thermometer thing Coran has us use."

"Is that… normal?"

"For me? No idea." Lance waved a hand. "It's not like I actually paid attention during those mandatory checkups at the Garrison." He flashed the black paladin a cheeky grin. "There were always responsible adults around to worry about things like that."

Shiro's concerned look relaxed a bit, and he gave his young friend a small grin of his own. "Fair point. But you'd better start taking care of yourself, too."

"…I'm gonna tell Allura you said that."

Grey eyes narrowed. "Don't you dare, you—"

Cackling, Lance bolted.

* * *

Shiro gripped the arms of his chair, hoping it wasn't too obvious to the rest of the people at the table. Diplomatic negotiations with the Peshtians had finished and a celebratory dinner was now in full swing, but he'd been on edge ever since they'd arrived in the cave-dwellers' underground city. He'd been trying to pay attention to the conversation, but the longer dinner dragged on the shorter and more stilted his responses had become. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk to anyone, it was just… all he could focus on was the overpowering sensation of tons and tons of earth above him, trapping him down here, so much unmoving weight between him and open air, and down here the air was so still and _crushed_ beneath rock—

A hand plucked at his elbow, and he jumped. "Wha—oh, hi Pidge."

"Hey." The green paladin kept her voice almost to a whisper, glancing at the Peshtians in the chairs on either side of him with a conspiratorial air. "Dinner's technically over, so… I'm gonna go explore. You want to come?"

Shiro wrestled with his better judgment, and lost. "Sure."

They slipped out of the dining hall and wound around several turns to make sure they were out of the vicinity of anyone who would tell them to go back. Then Pidge tapped something into her vambrace hologram and pulled up a map of the cave network. "Okay, there's an exit this way."

"Lead on." Shiro frowned at her. "Although, I thought you said you wanted to explore…?"

The girl glanced over her shoulder at him with a funny half smile. "That's what I'm doing. Exploring outside. If we hurry we can catch the sunset."

"I thought you liked exploring new cities."

"Well, yeah, but there're other things I like to see, too. I'll do that later. Don't you like being outside?"

Shiro caught her tone, and one of the anxious knots in his stomach loosened a little. He always tried to look out for his team, to make sure they were okay and supported and prepared for whatever this war might throw at them, but… it was nice, when they did the same for him. Not that either side ever _said_ that was what they were doing, but he knew they were looking out for him and was grateful all the same. "Yeah, I could go for a little fresh air."

Pidge chuckled. "I couldn't tell that at dinner at _all_ , and anyway, I was the one who put those fans in your room."

Fair point. Shiro had had trouble sleeping in his room at the Castle until the green paladin had installed a couple fans to keep the air moving at night. And—wait. "Was I really that obvious at dinner?"

"Not really." The girl waved a dismissive hand as she led him up a flight of stairs cut from the native rock. " _We_ could tell, but the Peshtians were clueless. One of the ones next to me said something about how animated we all were. I think they can't read human facial expressions very well."

"Makes sense." Shiro pulled in a breath, trying to fill his lungs. Okay, more like he was trying to _feel_ like his lungs were filled. The air was so still and tepid down here he just couldn't seem to breathe deeply enough, and the sense of pressure and weight crushing down from above was only making matters worse. _Get a hold of yourself, the cave is not actually crushing you, there's just a lot of stone over your head… Okay, not helping, not helping…_

"Hey, we should keep a lookout for rocks for Hunk." Pidge bent and picked up a pebble, tossing it experimentally in her hand. "I haven't gotten one for him here yet."

Shiro blinked, glad for something to focus on other than breathing. "Good idea."

As they headed for the exit they cast about for small stones, comparing ones they found and debating what sort of stone would best memorialize their visit. While the activity did help it didn't distract Shiro entirely from the apparent lack of air, and when they finally stepped outside he pulled in a deep breath and savored the freshness and the freedom and the _relief_. No unfathomable mass over his head, a breeze on his face… He breathed again, and again, enjoying the rush of air through his chest and throat. Clean, pure air, not air damp and still from its interminable presence in a cave. Pidge meanwhile scampered ahead and clambered up a pile of boulders, waving at him excitedly. "Come on, hurry up! The sun's about to set!"

Invigorated by the fresh air and the open sky overhead, Shiro climbed up beside her. The boulder-strewn plain rolled away before them, dust motes curling lazily in the wind, to a golden sun dipping into molten gold and coral glory. Pink and yellow and orange and purple flowed away across the dome of the sky, smudged here and there with the deep maroons of drifting clouds, until it all blended with the greens and blues of approaching night amid the first twinkling of stars. Two of the planet's five moons were visible, one a pale cat's claw slice almost right overhead, the other a pink-hued three-quarter disc low to the horizon. The black paladin gazed in wonder at the size and scope of the glory around him, and breathed it all in.

Pidge sat at his elbow, swinging her legs as she absently tossed and caught again the rock she'd chosen for Hunk. "Wow. I don't care how many times I see them, I never get tired of sunsets."

Shiro settled himself more comfortably on the boulder, a fresh breeze easing away the last of the knots in his stomach. The sky above them was so open, so free, the wind so soothing, as the sun blazed its way to sleep.

"Me neither."

* * *

A/N: The crutches Pidge is using are based on M+D crutches and KMINA crutches, which minimize pressure on the arms and upper body and allow hands-free movement (you can find demos of both brands on YouTube, although I'm not sure they're out in the market yet). Seriously, Earth crutches are _terrible_.

I know Shiro is Japanese and "kata" is the word used in Japanese martial arts, such as karate, but the amount of kicking he does when fighting (and the way he kicks) strongly suggests to me a background in taekwondo, which is Korean and relies more heavily on the feet than many other martial arts. Thus I have him using the word "form" instead, which is the typical word used among English-speaking taekwondo practitioners, at least in my experience. (For those not familiar with martial arts, a form/kata is a sequence of moves—blocks, kicks, punches, etc.—that trains the practitioner in those moves and in how to effectively link them together in combat. Technically, a form _is_ a stylized combat, usually practiced with an invisible opponent. Doing a form with a physical opponent or opponents is an amazing experience.)

The chapter title (and that of the next chapter) is a tribute to one of the first stories I ever followed on here and its author, Jade TeaLeaf, one of my greatest mentors as a writer. You probably wouldn't be reading this today if it weren't for her. She unfortunately never finished the story, but it was still an incredible work, and her mentorship is one of the things I value most about my time on this site.

Please review!


	7. The Chains that Bind Us Part 2

A/N: Brief warning: there is a bloody nose and injuries from hand-to-dagger combat in this chapter.

* * *

"This is bad."

"How bad?"

"On a scale of one to ten? I'm gonna go with a nine. Maybe nine point five."

"Then what would be a ten?"

"Probably doing a one way wormhole into Zarkon's high command. Probably. You know, not that we have experience with that or anything."

Hunk grimaced and looked from Pidge to their other teammates, all of them shivering and covered in snow and ice. Keith, whose coordination had taken an obvious turn for the worse and whose words were beginning to slur, was by far in the worst shape. Shiro and Hunk had the red paladin sandwiched between them in an attempt to shield him from the worst of the cold, but they too were feeling the numbing effects of the vicious weather. Lance was better off than any of them and had taken up the role of scout, ranging out short distances into the swirling blizzard in an attempt to pick up their trail, but even he kept chafing his arms and hands. Now he stomped up to the rest of the group and ducked down with them behind the rocky outcrop where they'd taken shelter. "I've tried everywhere, guys, but this wind has wiped out any tracks we left. I can't figure out what direction we came from. And I haven't been able to make contact with the Castle or the Shilquas, either."

"They'll be sending out search parties soon," Shiro replied, with a confidence they all knew he didn't feel. "As soon as this storm lets up."

"Yeah, that's kinda the problem." Pidge huddled down next to Hunk, wrapping her arms around herself as she tried to preserve body heat. "The Shilquas said that these storms can last for days. That's why we were supposed to finish the mission _before_ it hit."

"Thanks for the sparkling optimism, Pidge," Lance grumbled, and directed a pointed look at Shiro. "How's Keith?"

"Not great." The black paladin rubbed the younger boy's back, brows knitted. "If we're going to be out her much longer, we'll need a better shelter and a fire."

"Good luck with that," Keith grunted. Oh good, he was still conscious. Hunk had started to wonder. "No fuel out here."

"And not really any shelter, either," the yellow paladin felt obliged to add. "We were lucky just to find these rocks."

"Well, we can't just sit here until we freeze to death," was Shiro's edged reply. He seemed to be about to pull himself up for a look around, then thought better of it and sat back with a frustrated sigh. "Pidge, any ideas?"

The green paladin began a rambling discussion about science, and wind calculations, and cloud movements, which meant she didn't actually have any ideas but wasn't willing to admit it, and Hunk tuned her out. His heart rate was kicking into a faster gear than was good in these circumstances, and he huddled in on himself as he focused on breathing the way Shiro had taught him.

 _In, hold, out. In, hold, out. Breathe. Calm. Center._

 _Center…_

He blinked, and looked around. Snow, and stone, and…

 _Center._

 _That way._

"Uh, guys?" Hunk pushed himself to his feet, glancing from his friends to the snowy curtain around them. "I, uh, I think I know the way back."

The others exchanged looks. Shiro frowned at him. "How?"

"I don't really know, exactly, but… I think north is that way, and we left the city heading southwest, which means we need to go…" Hunk turned through the storm, reaching out for that wispy sense of anchoring, of centering, orientation, and pointed. " _That_ way."

The others blinked at him, and at each other. Then Keith suddenly started to his feet, wobbly but determined. "I'm with him. Let's go."

Perhaps the wisdom of the guy with hypothermia wasn't the best thing to go by, but it got the rest of them moving, and with Lance and Shiro flanking Keith and Pidge taking up the rear Hunk forged his way into the storm. He was going on feeling more than sight and had to fight to squash the voice of logic and doubt and fear in the back of his head that he was going the wrong way, this was stupid, they were all going to die…

The yellow paladin swallowed, and felt his way forward. _No_. Center. _This is right._

The voice finally fell silent when they almost walked smack into the city wall, hidden as it was in massive drifts of snow. They lost no time in pushing their way through the gate and getting somewhere warm, with blankets and a change of clothes and hot drinks in front of a fire. It wasn't until they were all huddled on the pile of cushions that served as a couch for the Shilquas, basking in the heat of a fireplace full of glowing coals, that Lance turned to Hunk with a bemused expression. "So, buddy, how'd you do that?"

Hunk blinked at him, and at the others as they, too, turned curious gazes in his direction, and shrugged. "Honestly I have no idea. I just was doing that calming breathing thing Shiro showed me, and then I just… felt where we were, I guess. Like I had a compass in my head."

"Well, it's a good thing you did." Keith was all but sitting in the hearth, his hands extended to the dancing flames as he soaked up their warmth. "I don't remember much of that trip back. Probably wouldn't have lasted much longer." He shot the yellow paladin a sober look. "Thank you."

Hunk shifted on his cushions, uncomfortable with the praise. "Really, I just went on a gut feeling, it wasn't anything special. Lance could probably have carried you back if he had to. He did way better in the cold than the rest of us."

"Nah, man." The blue paladin shook his head. "Maybe— _maybe_ —I could have hauled his fat butt this far, but I wouldn't have had a prayer of going in the right direction if you hadn't shown us the way."

Shiro gave Hunk's shoulder a squeeze. "Good job. I don't know how you did it, but you really saved us out there."

Hunk felt his ears go warm. _Not_ from the fire. "Well, aren't you all just super sappy tonight. Maybe you should get mostly frozen more often."

A pillow smacked him in the face, and he heard Keith chuckle.

"Don't count on it."

* * *

"Guys, I need help!" Yellow pressed against the base of the massive tower in a bid to stop its fall as Hunk's voice crackled over the comms. "It'll come down on the city if we don't get it back up!"

"Kinda busy right now!" Lance yelled back. "Pidge, watch your six!"

"There's too many of them!" Red blazed past, taking out a pair of fighters before looping back toward the shuddering tower. "We may have to cut our losses."

"We can't just let it drop!" Hunk shot back. "There are too many people in the city!"

"We need you up here or we'll get overrun!"

Shiro braced himself against his controls, torn and furious. For a moment he felt as though he were floating, with no sense of gravity to anchor him, and he shook his head to clear the sensation. Such spells had been occurring every so often ever since they'd joined Voltron, and now was really not the time.

Beneath his hands, his Lion thrummed.

 _Push_.

Shiro blinked as Black tangled in his thoughts. Pressure. Force against stone. The groan of metal, and determination, and a question.

Shiro breathed deep, and reached back.

 _Together_.

Black rumbled, and shot toward the tower as Shiro barked out orders. "Pidge, Lance, Keith, keep those fighters off us for just a little longer. Hunk, can you use your boosters to push the tower back up?"

"Yeah, but I'm a pivot point, it needs something to hold up the other side."

"I'll take care of that. You just push when I say!"

The tower quivered, and groaned, and Black charged toward it without slacking her pace. There was no _time_. Shiro gritted his teeth and slammed the joysticks forward, oh man, this was going to _hurt_...

They crashed into the tower with enough force to make it shudder. Over the comms, Hunk yelped in surprise. "What _was_ that?"

"That was me." Shiro hauled in air, gasping as his Lion's effort trembled through him. She'd pressed her head against the tower to use her neck for extra leverage, which was brilliant and not _exactly_ what he'd had in mind and his head and neck were already starting to hurt. "I've got the far side. Boosters!"

"Ten-four!"

The two Lions shoved together. Slowly, painfully slowly, the tower creaked back toward its proper foundations as fighters shrieked around them. Shiro could hear Hunk groaning from Yellow's exertion, and stars flashed in his vision as he and Black poured every ounce of power into the endeavor. The world narrowed down into _push_ , and _push_ , and the feeling of stone against metal. He yelled without words, sweat dripping into his eyes, and dredged up from somewhere a few fragments more, and something groaned and gave. Red exploded behind his eyelids as the tower rocked back into position and the pressure suddenly eased.

Shiro hung over the joysticks, gasping for breath, grateful that the vehicle beneath his hands was capable of handling herself long enough for him to get his brain back together. One hand went to his face, and came away sticky.

"Whoo! You guys rock!" Lance's voice filtered in, coaxing his awareness back to the world around him. "The base'll need a patch job later, but the tower's back up!"

"Oh, man." Hunk grunted, and from the pop Shiro guessed he was twisting his spine back into alignment. "That was _way_ harder than I expected. What do these guys build with, anyway?"

"They've got some sort of ultra-dense metal alloy," Pidge started. "It's what allows them to—"

"Not the time, Pidge!" Keith barked. "Keep those fighters back! Shiro, what's your status?"

"Functional," the black paladin managed. He hauled himself back into an upright position, hands fumbling over the control panel. "I've taken some damage, but we're still up and flying."

"What sort of damage?"

"Black used her head to get a little extra push." Shiro closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the bent and battered plates along his Lion's muzzle. "It worked, but she got a bit dented. And I've got a bloody nose."

"Okay. You take it easy, with that tower back up this won't take too long. We can handle the rest."

Shiro didn't sit out the remainder of the fight, but with the smell of iron in his nose and the extremely distracting sensation of trickling blood it was just as well that his team was competent enough to mop up the rest of the fighters on their own. On reflex he kept wiping at his face, and his hands and controls were soon smudged with red. He chuffed a soft laugh. "Sorry I'm making such a mess on you. I promise I'll clean up later."

 _Mess, both of us. Wry amusement. Need patching up._

Shiro grinned, and rubbed his nose, and winced.

"Yeah, I guess we do."

* * *

A polite knock made Keith jump, and he snapped his lighter shut a bit guiltily. "Come in."

The door slid open and Shiro took two steps into the room, opening his mouth to say something—and then closed it, and folded his arms as his face dropped into disapproval. "Keith, we've talked about this."

Keith looked down at the charred bits of paper in his hand and felt his cheeks go hot. "I was being careful!"

"Look, I know you of all people are careful with fire." The older man sighed and leaned one shoulder against the wall. "I'm just worried this is getting out of hand. What's with you and burning things lately?"

"I—" Keith swallowed, dropping his gaze. "It's… I can't…"

"Hey." Shiro's tone was soft, like Keith remembered from those times at the Garrison when everything had just been too much and people were stupid and he was too angry to think straight. "Just talk it out. Some things don't lend themselves to words. Just give me the gist."

The red paladin clung to that and took a deep breath. "It's like… if I don't have fire, I… I'm hungry for it. When we were with the Shilquas, and they made us that fire when we got back from the field… I could have stared into that forever. The flames, watching the wood burn… it's like I—I _need_ fire, Shiro. I don't know why, I just… it feels right. Like something fitting into place." His lips twitched, ever so slightly. "Like Hunk and his rocks. I can go without it, but… something just feels off if I do."

"Is that how he described it?"

"Yeah, kinda." Keith glanced up, frustrated—he'd never been able to talk well, that hadn't been right at all—

"I've been being too hard on you."

Keith blinked. "Huh?"

Shiro regarded him with a thoughtful expression. "I've been trying to get you to stop burning things, but I've also seen how much calmer Hunk is if he has a stone in his pocket. If fire is the same for you…" Grey eyes creased, ever so slightly. "You need it."

"Thank—hey…"

Shiro flashed him a smirk, then sobered. "But if you are going to burn things, there need to be some ground rules."

 _Uh-oh…_

"First." The black paladin raised one finger. " _Never_ start a fire in a place it might spread, and always make sure it's out completely."

"I do that already!"

"Good. Just figured it could stand to be repeated." Another finger rose. "Second, only burn things where it can easily be cleaned up. Coran had to scrub off scorch marks and ash when you burned that napkin in the kitchen, and he was _not_ happy."

Keith ducked his head. Oops. He'd kinda forgotten about that one.

"Third." Shiro shot a pointed glance around Keith's bare room. "You need to have some sort of flame retardant close by, just in case—sand, water, whatever, but we're on a space ship that's one of the highest military targets in the known universe. Accidents are going to happen. And fourth, no burning anything that shouldn't be burned—no napkins, clothing, bedsheets, anything like that. Paper is fine. Wood is fine. But not stuff that can't be immediately replaced."

"…Is Coran still mad about the napkin?"

"You might want to apologize for it," the older man replied dryly. "Apparently it was part of a set, and now there's an uneven number."

 _Oops_. "Okay, I will."

"Glad to hear it."

"Anything else?"

"Not at the moment." Shiro grinned at him. "Just don't do anything crazy enough to merit adding another rule. Deal?"

"Deal." Keith returned a smile of his own, rolling his lighter between his fingers as he contemplated the flame waiting to be given spark. He raised his eyebrows as something occurred to him. "Uh, what did you stop by for, originally?"

"Oh yeah, thanks for the reminder." The black paladin rubbed his jaw, looking pensive. "See, I was talking with Pidge and Hunk, and we had this idea…"

* * *

Hunk found himself backed into an alcove with Allura as the assassins overran the hall, neither of them armed or armored and the princess hampered by her flowing formal gown. Darn Ekshin political customs. Several assassins closed on them, and one jumped at Allura. Another grabbed Hunk—and man was the guy _strong_ , even Allura seemed to be having difficulty holding her ground—and threw the yellow paladin hard against the wall.

Lights exploded in his vision, and he lay on the floor for a moment as he tried to figure out which way was up. Cries and snarls echoed around him, and he lifted his head to see that two more assassins had joined Allura's first attacker. Between the three of them they'd wrestled the princess to a standstill. Another assassin moved in, holding what looked like a ceremonial dagger, and Hunk's insides went cold.

No time to think. Just _move_.

The dagger stabbed downward, and Hunk launched himself across the alcove.

For a moment the world stood still.

Hunk choked and staggered, staring at the weapon protruding from his stomach. From somewhere far away he heard Allura crying his name, but his senses weren't working properly, and it hurt, it _hurt_ , and blood was everywhere… He went down on one knee, gasping for breath, or breathing too much, and everything was going grey, and—

—And he blinked, and drew a steadying breath, and lifted his head. Blood still flowed over the fingers he had clamped to his wound, and agony still sang through every nerve, but despite the sensory overload his head was somehow clear. He felt tingly, too fast and too slow all at once, as though he was either slightly separated from his body or more present than he'd ever been before. An invisible stream seemed to be flowing into him from somewhere outside, and as he reached for it in puzzlement the answer came rushing in and he smiled through the taste of blood.

 _Share. Give. Support. Yours, and mine. Ours._

With Yellow's quintessence, so solid and strong, giving his body borrowed strength, Hunk got to his feet. The assassins still holding Allura hissed with shock as the opponent they'd thought was down for good picked himself off the floor and closed in, one hand still clamped to the tear in his gut while the other arm swung out to hook around an enemy's neck.

Step. Drop his weight. Pull.

The assassin's yelp of surprise cut off abruptly as Hunk flipped him over his shoulders, the sound of cracking vertebrae loud beside the paladin's ear. Then the others yelled with alarm as Allura, now with an arm freed, went on the attack. Familiar shouts announced that backup had arrived, and Hunk kicked the feet out from under another assassin just as Keith and Shiro bulled their way into the alcove while Pidge and Lance covered their backs. The yellow paladin flashed his friends a strained grin. "Hi guys, what took you so long?"

Keith took one look at the other boy and his eyes went wide. "Oh, quiznak—guys, Hunk's hurt bad!"

"I'm managing." Hunk kept one hand against his torn stomach, feeling blood and pain and Yellow's quintessence flowing in equal measure. "Just… let's get to our Lions? Y'know, fast?"

They did their best. As the other paladins grouped around them in a defensive knot Allura pulled Hunk's free arm over her shoulders, and he leaned gladly on her as the others fought their way out of the hall. Hunk wasn't about to complain about the VIP treatment as blood loss made his senses start to wobble, and by the time they made it outside to where the Lions waited his head was buzzing, alert and distant all at once. Yellow pressed against his thoughts, concerned and comforting and angry, and Hunk reached back through the ropes of lent quintessence that held him to consciousness. "It's okay, buddy, just a little longer…"

"Allura." Shiro's hand was glowing as he spearheaded their little group. "Get Hunk into Black. His Lion can fly to the Castle on his own."

"Are you sure?" The princess kept a firm grip on Hunk's arm. "The Lion might not—"

"He'll come," Hunk interrupted. "He's… he's keeping me awake. If I go in Black, he'll follow."

Shiro and Allura looked at him, then at each other. The black paladin nodded once, short and sharp. "Good. You two get moving, we'll cover you."

They all made it back to the Castle in one piece, with Hunk drifting in and out while Shiro flew them as fast as Black could manage and Allura tended to his wound. Yellow continued to pour quintessence into him through the bond he could feel but not see, and upon their arrival Coran carefully patched him back together in the infirmary with an expression that mixed concern with wonder. "This might not be the best time, but… you really shouldn't be conscious. Probably shouldn't have made it back here. You really got torn up."

Numb from topical anesthesia and aching and exhausted, Hunk shrugged beneath the surgical lights. "My Lion's keeping me going. But, y'know, neither of us would mind if I get into a healing pod stat."

"I won't mind either." The Altean applied sutures and bandages and wheeled his patient straight to the pod chamber. The others helped him move the yellow paladin into a pod Allura had already prepped, and with a grateful sigh Hunk let the healing cycle pull him into unconsciousness. As welcome darkness closed in he reached out toward the anchor that had sustained him for all this time.

 _Thanks, buddy._

The Lion reached back, solid and gentle.

 _Yours. Mine. Ours._

* * *

Lance blinked at their resident tech geek, not sure if he'd heard right. "You want to visit a _botanical garden?_ "

"Well, yeah." Pidge waved excited hands. "We're on a whole new planet, with its own flora and fauna. I wanna get a look!" She turned a sly grin on him. "One of the ambassadors said it's got a waterfall."

"Oh, twist my arm, will you." The blue paladin rolled his eyes and reached for his jacket. "Fine, I'll go."

They made it out of the ambassadorial wing of the Kenkishian palace without anyone telling them they couldn't leave and escaped down the street. Pidge had gotten directions from someone, and she led the older paladin straight to a soaring metal gate with an inscription neither of them could read. Lance raised an eyebrow at it. "You sure this is the right place?"

"Yup. And we can just walk in, it's free."

Pidge suited action to word, and they stopped just inside to take in the expanse before them. The garden was vast and sprawling, with massive trees and garden beds overflowing with flowers and a beautiful lake right in the center of it all. It was tidy but natural, not like the rigid, formal gardens they'd seen in some other places, and Lance stared around him in amazement. "Wow. This is _amazing_. Uh, where do you want to start?"

The green paladin smirked at him. "Let's find you that waterfall first."

At first they couldn't locate the falls at all, and their search took them in a wide arc through the garden. Lance found himself having to constantly wait for Pidge as she bent over another new flower, and he began to get impatient. Not that he didn't appreciate flowers too, but he didn't need to look _at every single one_ , and what was her deal anyway? _I thought she hated the outdoors… Guess she got the bug from the Olkari…_

At last, after she had stopped by yet another soaring spike of pink and orange blossoms that resembled oversized snapdragons, he gave up. "Hey, Pidge, mind if I go on ahead? I think I can see a bridge, and that waterfall's probably close by."

"Yeah, no problem." The girl barely glanced at him, hand extended to cradle one of the flowers in her palm as she breathed in its fragrance. "I'll catch up to you in a bit."

With a sigh of relief, Lance stepped out briskly toward his goal. Sure enough, by the time he stepped onto the sculpted stone of the bridge the music of falling water was echoing all around him, and he leaned his elbows on the railing as he took in the sight. It wasn't a wide waterfall, but it was a high one, almost as tall as Blue's shoulder, and its curtain of roaring water swirled away beneath him in a tumbling race toward the lake. He grinned and tipped his head back to catch the feel of the spray across his cheeks as the cascade's rumble vibrated through his bones. Now this was nature.

A flicker of movement caught his eye, and he looked over to see one of the Kenkish pruning an overgrown shrub. The alien's four eyes were watching him sidelong, and Lance waved. "Uh, hi, just looking."

"Hello. Are you not enjoying the garden?"

"Er, I _am_ enjoying it."

"Then why do you have no flowers?"

Lance looked down at his hands, then back at his interrogator, confused. "No… flowers?"

The creature tipped his head, studying him. "It is the custom of all Kenkishian gardens that those who enjoy them leave with some token of their enjoyment."

"But… doesn't that kill the flowers?"

A furred shrug. "It is tradition."

"Uh… okay. Not gonna mess with tradition." Lance glanced about, wondering if he should just pick some random flower, and his eye lighted upon one particular patch of color. Specific colors. He blinked at them, and grinned as an idea suddenly came to him. "Just wondering… does it matter how many I take?"

"Most only take one or two, but there is no requirement concerning number."

"Right, awesome. Thank you very much!"

The alien gave him a solemn nod as he went back to his pruning. "You are welcome."

Lance gathered his supplies and retreated to the bridge, the better to enjoy the waterfall as he worked. It had been a while since he made one of these, but images of his sister Veronica's deft fingers weaving in and out of stems and greenery trickled through his memory, aiding his progress. By the time Pidge rounded the bend he was ready to shove his surprise behind his back and grin at her. "Hey there, slowpoke, what took you so long?"

"Oh my gosh, the plants here are _amazing_." Pidge flopped against the railing, tired and happy. "There are just so many species, and they're all so different from the ones on Earth!"

"Like you paid any attention to Earth plants."

"Well… okay, fair point." The tech geek flashed a sheepish grin. "But the flowers… oh my gosh, so many colors, and most of them smell so amazing…" She trailed off, narrowing her eyes at him. "Are you hiding something?"

"Actually, yeah." Lance pulled his finished project out from behind his back. "Since you suddenly seem to like flowers so much… I made this for you."

Pidge froze, staring. Then she slowly reached out and took the flower crown in both hands, cradling it as though she were afraid it'd break. "You… you made this?"

"Yeah, my sister taught me how." The blue paladin gave her a small smile. "Thought I'd pass it on."

"You're not showing me how to make it, silly." But Pidge lifted the hoop of stems and blossoms to her head, settling it over her poof of hair with a sudden shyness that surprised Lance. He chuckled as she all but crossed her eyes trying to look up at it, and reached over.

"Hang on, it's crooked."

He straightened out his work, a weave of delicate fern leaves intermingled with tiny white flowers. Dotted throughout the emerald foliage were larger blue blossoms with yellow centers, as well as several daisy-like red flowers that darkened to black in the middle. Hazel eyes peered up at him with a questioning look, and Lance grinned back down at them. "There you go. You look like a fairy princess."

Pidge snorted, but she brightened nonetheless. "In these clothes? Yeah, right."

"I'm serious." Lance poked her in the ribs. "Next time we have one of those big fancy parties where we have to dress up, you should put flowers in your hair. It looks really good."

"Thanks." The girl swatted at his hand, beaming. "If I do, will you show me how to make these?"

"Sure thing."

* * *

Someone was in the courtyard.

Allura fell back into shadow, peering out the window of her tiny room as she watched the dark figure move along the portico and come to a halt beside one of the columns. Their hosts had assured them of their quarters' security, but she was always a bit on edge whenever they were in the midst of forging an alliance, and you could never be too careful.

The figure, however, came no closer. It instead sank onto the ground beside the column, and as it relieved itself of a bundle it had apparently been carrying Allura saw with a sigh of relief that the person was human, with the starlight catching on familiar white hair. Then she frowned.

 _What is he doing out at this hour?_

Curiosity drove her through her bedchamber's narrow door and out into the courtyard. The flagstones carried lingering traces of the day's heat, but the air was chilly, dry and crisp in a way only a desert night can be. Though her bare feet made little noise she made no particular effort to conceal her approach, and Shiro turned to look up at her as she drew near. "Good evening, princess. What are you doing up so late?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

Amusement, and a hint of challenge, flickered in his eyes. "I asked first."

Allura folded her arms, as much as to look miffed as to wrap her robe more tightly against the faint breeze from the courtyard wicket gate. "Fine. I was simply reviewing today's negotiations so as to better commit them to memory for tomorrow. Then I saw you skulking around out here." She raised an eyebrow. "Care to tell me what that's about?"

The black paladin chuckled softly and leaned back against the column, looking up at the visible patch of sky with an expression she couldn't interpret. "Couldn't sleep, is all."

"An unfortunate circumstance, but not one that necessarily preludes finding you out here." Allura shot a pointed look at his nightclothes and the blanket he'd wrapped around his shoulders. "And from all appearances, you seem to be planning to stay for some time."

"…You know, one of these days I'm actually going to get away with something."

"We'll see about that."

Shiro quirked a wry grin up at her, then sobered, his eyes sliding back to the night sky. "I was… The Halja gave me a room a little down the hall."

"Yes, next to Lance, wasn't it?"

"That's right. It was nice of them to make sure we were all close, but… my room doesn't have any windows."

Allura grimaced in sympathy, sinking down to sit beside him. The Halja were a hive race half her height, and they'd had to go to great lengths to arrange suitable accommodations for the Voltron emissaries. Even so, their chambers were still quite small, and as the Halja buildings were huge, hodgepodge conglomerates more than a few rooms had no direct access to the outdoors. "That must have been quite… constraining."

"Not really." Shiro caught the questioning tilt of her head and offered a shrug in reply. "I mean, yes, but… I've had smaller rooms before. When I was a Garrison undergrad…" He shook his head, cutting off whatever memory he'd been about to explore. Allura found herself sorry he'd done so. "It's not the size that's the problem, exactly, and even that at least didn't used to be a problem. It's… The air was so still, I felt like I couldn't breathe, and with no window outside I couldn't see the sky, and… I felt trapped, I guess."

Oh. Allura could have kicked herself. He'd been a prisoner of the Galra for a year, and prisons were never spacious… "Oh, Shiro, I'm so sorry. I didn't even think of it."

"Don't be." He flashed her a half grin before returning his gaze skyward. "But, I mean, the room just… didn't feel right, at all. So I decided to come out here." He pulled in a breath, exhaled in a relieved sigh. "It's nice out tonight. The sky's so clear."

"I'm always amazed at how different the stars look on every new planet we visit." Allura looked up too, taking in the glittering pinpricks of silver ever so far above them. "I wish I had time to learn the constellations for them all."

She felt more than saw Shiro turn to regard her, his expression thoughtful.

"What were the constellations on Altea?"

Allura blinked, and lowered her gaze to stare at him. "What?"

"On Earth we've our constellations names." Grey eyes were earnest as he sketched lines in the air. "One of the easiest to find is the Big Dipper, and you can use it to find the north star. It was the first one I ever learned. Then there's Orion, which is named after a guy from a myth and looks a bit like a man holding a sword and shield, and Cassiopeia, and Leo, and I've always wanted to see the Southern Cross…" He trailed off with a sheepish grin and turned a gently questioning look on her. "What about on Altea? Did you have names for your constellations?"

"We did." Allura smiled as she reached into bittersweet memory. "My favorite was the Dancing Swan, a line of brighter stars between two arcs of smaller ones—it always looked so graceful and delicate. Then there was Esturian, named after a character from folklore, and Seiva, and the Laughing Twins—we didn't have a north star like Earth, but the Twins always circled the pole, and we used them to find our way instead." She sighed and gazed skyward, feeling the familiar ache in her chest for all she'd lost. Shiro leaned toward her and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"I wish I could have seen them."

Allura smiled wistfully, and turned her hand to tangle her fingers with his. "I wish you could have, too."

They settled into comfortable silence, shoulder to shoulder with their backs against the column and their eyes on the sky. Allura didn't see any real reason to go back inside, or to withdraw her hand, and she didn't protest when Shiro shifted enough to draw his blanket around her shoulders too. He pulled her close, the better to share warmth, and she dropped her head onto his shoulder.

The sky really was so beautifully clear.

* * *

A/N: The throw Hunk uses is a truly nasty move that should never be used in a spar, as it is intrinsically lethal. Demons run when a good man goes to war.

All those constellations Shiro listed off have significance. Anyone who guesses any of them right gets brownie points. (Also, you have no idea how tempted I was to name one of the Altean constellations "Shallura".)

Please review!


	8. Rocky Road to Voltron

"What the _quiznak_ , Lance!" Keith glared at the homemade checkerboard, and the smirking paladin facing him from its other side. "That's not—you can't even—ah, trisekal…"

"Don't be a gora, Keith." Lance stacked his captured red checkers with obvious relish. "Just because you're a pyk checkers player doesn't mean you can throw a tantrum when I win!"

Hunk rolled his eyes and put down the recipe he'd been trying to commit to memory. The two other boys were being far too distracting to get any real reading done. "Do you guys even know what all those alien curse words are?"

"Course we don't." Lance flapped a dismissive hand. "Doesn't mean they're not super satisfying to say."

"Especially when the situation pyking well calls for it," Keith growled.

Pidge looked up from where she had roped a bemused Shiro into helping her tinker with the video game console. "Getting slaughtered over there, huh?"

"I'm, like, ninety percent positive that sonofagora is cheating," the red paladin grumbled back. Lance scoffed and stuck his nose in the air.

"Oh, really? That's just cause you're a quiznaking lakoo."

Bluestone eyes glared up at him from beneath lowered brows. "You call me that one more time…"

Lance stuck his tongue out. "You'll what? Beat me at checkers?"

"I'll glue that tongue to the roof of your pyking mouth, for starters."

"You could try, but you'd never trisekaling—"

"Yowch!"

The bickering cut off abruptly as Pidge yelped and stuck a hand in her mouth, shooting a dark look at the console. Shiro leaned over to see what had happened, and the girl reluctantly let him pull the reddened appendage over for inspection. "Stupid pyking gora-faced quiznak… it shocked me! It's not even plugged in!"

The black paladin shot her an annoyed glare. "You're not using all that language now, too!"

"I'll use language when I quiznaking well want to, Shiro!" Pidge jabbed an accusing finger at the console. "It deserves it!"

"Guys…" Shiro looked like he desperately wanted to smack himself in the forehead, but both his hands were occupied inspecting Pidge's fingers. "We're the paladins of Voltron. People all over the _universe_ look up to us. Just because we don't know what all those words mean doesn't mean at least some of them won't!"

"Aw, come on, Shiro!" Lance flopped onto his back. "Normal words just aren't enough sometimes!"

The black paladin looked stubborn. "If ordinary English can't fit the situation, you're probably better off not saying anything at all."

"…What about Spanish?"

"Spanish too."

"That's—that's not pyking fair!"

"Lance…"

"I dunno, Shiro, I might have to go with Lance on this one." Keith shot the blue paladin a glare, probably to indicate that this concession had nothing to do with checkers, and leaned on one elbow. "I mean, it's not like any of us curse all the time—"

"Then what were you just doing?"

"The situation called for it!"

"We're having _down time_. If you can't avoid cursing now, you'll do it in public in front of our allies. Cut it out."

"Hey, guys." Hunk waved a hand to draw the others' attention. "So, lemme get something straight real quick. You guys—" He pointed at Lance, Keith, and Pidge— "wanna swear because normal words just don't cut it. And you—" A thumb jab toward Shiro— "don't want us to curse because we're role models for the universe. Right?"

The other four paladins glanced at each other. Pidge shrugged. "I mean, yeah, pretty much. So?"

"So…" Hunk raised an eyebrow at the black paladin. "Shiro, if we could find some sort of substitute for cursing that wasn't crass at all, and would still let us blow off that curse-word-needing steam… would that be okay?"

"I suppose." Grey eyes narrowed a fraction. "What did you have in mind?"

The large boy smirked at the other three. "You guys ever heard about that thing with ice cream flavors?"

Lance blinked. Then he punched upward with all four limbs as Pidge snickered and Keith and Shiro looked at each other in confusion. "Oh yeah! Hunk, you're a… a mint chocolate chip genius!"

"We are _totally_ doing this." The green paladin's face broke into a truly wicked grin. "How the chocolate fudge did you come up with that?"

Hunk watched the dawning glee on Keith's face—and the horror on Shiro's—and grinned back. "Elementary, my dear Pidge. Elementary."

* * *

"I can't get that strawberry cheesecakeing fighter in my sights! Hunk, can you—"

"Ten-four!" Yellow bulled his way through the stone pillars, his paladin whooping a battle cry. "Get your coconut almond butt out where I can see it, you rum raisin piece of carrot cake!"

"Hey, Hunk!" Lance chirped. "If the fighters are _pieces_ of carrot cake, does that make the cruisers _whole_ cakes?"

"Or are they just a different cake flavor?" Keith added. Shiro could _hear_ the red paladin's smirk over the comms. "And, you know, still cake pieces?"

Hunk snickered. "You guys, asking the deep questions. Ooh, then Zarkon's command ship could be a triple tier cake, like at weddings!"

Shiro sighed, and resisted the urge to pound his head against Black's console.

 _I need new friends._

* * *

"So…" Coran twirled his mustache. "How does this work again?"

"You just take the curse word, like 'quiznak', and put in an ice cream flavor instead!" Lance flapped his hands. "It's super easy!"

"I mean, yes, but what's the point?"

"Shiro was trying to get us to stop using alien swear words," Pidge smirked. "So we stopped."

"Except we started substituting ice cream flavors instead," Hunk added. "That means we're _not_ actually swearing, so technically we're doing what Shiro wants, but we still get to let off stress and his reactions are just _great_. Plus the whole thing is hilarious, which helps diffuse tension, so it's a super useful diplomatic strategy too."

"I suppose…" Allura looked just as dubious as the ginger as she eyed the list Pidge had drawn up. "But do we really have to memorize these?"

"Those are just suggestions," Lance shrugged. "You can do your own if you want. Kind of like… What the cookies and cream did you just call me?"

"Hold on, hold on, let me try." Coran cleared his throat and adopted a ferocious scowl. "Ho there, you… uh… karmilak caramel! How dare you, um, banana eshulz with that… that thing!"

The three paladins glanced at each other, all of them fighting to keep their laugher in check. Pidge adjusted her glasses. "Ah, um, ahem, yes, Coran, that's _exactly_ it."

* * *

 _Thud._

" _Vanilla bean!"_

Pidge hopped on one foot as she clutched the stubbed toes of the other, glaring at the world. Shiro rolled his eyes. "Vanilla bean? Seriously?"

"Don't tell me you have something better," the green paladin sniffed, gingerly feeling at her pinky toe. "Ow, man, that _hurt_ …"

"You get shot at on a daily basis."

"Stubbed pinky toes are right up there with stepping on a Lego in the dark, Shiro. Do not question my pain scale."

Coran popped his head in the door. "Did someone get hurt? I thought I heard a yell."

"Pidge just stubbed her foot," Shiro replied with a shrug. "Nothing major."

"Oh. Um, why the gubberlab split did you yell, then?"

The two paladins blinked at him.

Pidge smirked.

Shiro facepalmed.

 _Not Coran too…_

* * *

Keith gripped the hapless smuggler by the collar, cocking his fist back for another punch. "Don't you _ever_ touch her again."

"Hey, Keith, easy." Pidge tugged at his elbow. "I'm okay, and anyway, he has information we need. There's no need to beat the cookie dough out of him."

"I don't know." The red paladin released his grip, though he continued to glare as Pidge's would-be attacker scuttled backward with wide eyes. "I'm really, _really_ tempted."

"Let's save it for _after_ the interrogation." Lance kept his rifle trained on the smuggler's chest, glaring just as hard as Keith. "Whaddaya say, buddy, are we gonna make you sing in ice cream flavors, or are you gonna tell us what we want to know about that quintessence shipment you sold?"

The alien's jaw went a little slack as he stared wide-eyed between the three paladins. "Uhh…"

Keith pulled out his knife and slapped it against his palm. "So, buddy, which one of us do you want to peanut butter crunch you up first?"

"Lemme explain how this works." Pidge smirked at her erstwhile tormentor, wiping away a trickle of blood from a gash on her cheek as she held up her katar. "I'm shocky." She pointed at Keith. "He's stabby." A jab at Lance. "He's shooty. And _we're_ going to be asking the questions, and if you don't answer us we're going to take turns getting in some weapons practice. So, which one of us do you want to go first?"

The alien goggled at them, and threw up his hands.

"I surrender!"

"Not what I asked. Though that's a good start." Pidge jammed the edge of her blade under his chin. He squeaked with fright as he tried to flatten himself against the wall. "Now, you're going to cooperate, or we're going to chocolate truffle you up. Got it?"

"Trufflebutterdoughgotit!"

Keith raised an eyebrow at Lance. "Can I just stab him?"

"…Later."

* * *

"Oh, white chocolate strawberry cheesecake…"

Shiro stifled a sigh and looked over at Hunk from where he and Allura were comparing data sets on Galra ship movements. "Something wrong?"

"This coffee chipping reading makes no sense!" The yellow paladin glared at his computer screen. "I've been trying to refine sodium aluminum sulfate, but even though I used all the proper reagents I'm still getting nothing!"

Allura's brows creased. "May I take a look?"

"If you want to, sure."

The princess leaned over the back of Hunk's chair and peered at the digitized tables. After a long moment she should her head. "I really don't know what to tell you. There really is no reason I can see for these chocolate mint results."

Blue eyes flickered up for the briefest moment. Shiro saw the regal, intelligent, well-mannered princess flash him a wicked smirk, and gaped at her in utter betrayal. "Now you're doing it too?"

Allura blinked innocently at him. "Doing what?"

"The… the… the _quizna_ —"

"Ooh, careful of that language!" Hunk grinned at him. "Remember, if normal English doesn't cut it, just don't say it!"

Shiro glared. Sighed, and mopped at his face as a resigned grin tugged at the corners of his mouth. "You guys are ridiculous, you know that?"

Allura gave an exaggerated eye roll. "I haven't a banana pudding idea what you're talking about."

As the princess and the black paladin tried to stare the other into laughing first, Hunk tapped away at his computer with a satisfied smirk.

"Oh yeah. We are _totally_ keeping this."

* * *

A/N: This pure, unadulterated crack, of which I am not ashamed in the least, was inspired by internet idiocy started (I believe) by the tumblr user deforrestkelley. Pidge's "vanilla bean" line was FaceplantNINJA's idea. And I was, in fact, googling lists of ice cream flavors for this.

If you were curious, sodium aluminum sulfate is baking soda.

Please review!


	9. Blue Birthday

"Hunk, what the heck _is_ this?" Keith yawned, dropping onto the lounge sofa next to Pidge. "It's the middle of the night."

"Technically we're in the middle of space, so it's _always_ night," the green paladin mumbled, arms wrapped around a pillow. She looked just as tired as everyone else, but apparently her science reflex overpowered even fatigue.

Hunk clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. "Okay, so, obviously you're all wondering why I've called you here today—"

Shiro thwacked him with a pillow, grinning. "Cut to the chase, buddy, we all want to sleep."

"I was getting there!" the yellow paladin protested. "The reason we're meeting so late is so Lance doesn't know about it. See, his birthday's coming up, and birthdays are kinda big in his family. So I was thinking we could have some sort of shindig."

"A shindig is a party," Shiro filled in at Allura and Coran's blank looks. Raised an eyebrow at Hunk. "I for one think that's a great idea. What did you have in mind?"

"Well, cake, obviously." Hunk rolled his eyes. "But a birthday party isn't just cake. Any ideas?"

"Ooh, ooh, ooh!" Pidge sat bolt upright, grinning like a maniac, sleep apparently forgotten. "Matt and I always pranked each other on our birthdays! We should _totally_ do that!"

Shiro looked like he didn't know whether to laugh or groan. "Is that where the vinegar soda came from?"

"The _what?_ " Keith yelped.

"You don't want to know."

"Yup." Pidge's grin was smug. "And he bought that one hook, line, and sinker, by the way. I bet I could rig all sorts of things to scare the daylights out of Lance, too. Start with his door, put a—"

"Let's not terrify the guy," Shiro interrupted with a wry grin. "Keep it to fun stuff? Like, I don't know, a confetti blaster, or something?"

The girl rubbed her chin, obviously contemplating that. "Hmm. That could work. I'll see what I can do."

"I'm certainly not opposed to pranking Lance," Hunk cut in, "and I totally like that confetti blaster idea, but you guys got anything else? Like, I don't know, something we could give him as a gift?"

Keith opened his mouth.

" _Not_ a knife."

Keith closed his mouth.

Allura chuckled at them. "On Altea, we usually held birthday celebrations in the evening, with some sort of dish for the person being celebrated and all of their _prosfores_."

Hunk blinked. So did Keith and Shiro. Pidge, however, narrowed her eyes. "That's… does that mean 'sacrifice joiner'?"

"Roughly, yes." The princess tilted her head, white hair tumbling loose across her nightgown. "The word does come from old religious rituals, but… In birthday celebrations, a _prosfora_ is someone who manages to put a _louloodi_ on the birthday person at any point before the _almyra_ , or celebratory dish, is shared." At their confused stares, she elaborated. "A louloodi is some sort of necklace, traditionally handmade. Sometimes people make flower chains, or strings of beads, or paper rings, or… all sorts of things. Father once used seaweed for Mother. She was _not_ amused."

"I thought Melanor was going to skin him alive," Coran chuckled. "He got sand and seawater all over her second best dress!"

"So…" Pidge darted a glance between them. "It's for messing with people?"

"Sometimes it's used for that, but that's not its intent." Allura spread her hands. "Anyone who places a louloodi gets to share the almyra with the birthday person, so there's a bit of an incentive—both for you to place one, and for everyone who's already placed one to keep you from placing yours. Because the fewer people who place one, the more of the almyra there is for each prosfora." She smirked. "Although damaging other people's louloodia is strictly forbidden. It is usually treated as a way to give the person a gift."

Hunk processed that. "So… you play pin the tail on the donkey, except it's a necklace on the birthday boy, to invite yourself to his party?"

Shiro grinned at him. "That's what it sounds like."

"Then I am _totally_ in." The yellow paladin beamed at the princess. "I love that idea and am keeping it forever, by the way."

Allura laughed. "I'm glad you like it!"

"We should still get him a gift, though." Shiro leaned his chin on his fist, thinking. Cocked an eye at Hunk. "What sort of hobbies did he have at the Garrison?"

"Besides flirting with pretty girls?" Pidge snorted.

Keith jabbed her with an elbow. "That's not a hobby, that's just being annoying."

"Since when can a hobby not be annoying?"

"Not the point, guys." The black paladin waved a hand at the pair. "Come on, we're looking for ideas here."

Hunk frowned, digging through memory. "I know he surfed back home, but that's no use since we're flying around all the time… He did listen to music a lot. Maybe we could get him space iTunes or something?"

Pidge shook her head. "Not gonna be much help. I brought my music with me, and Lance listens to it all the time. I've been adding stuff to it too, so it's not like he's running out any time soon."

Keith raised an eyebrow. "You like alien music?"

"Sure, there's lots of great music out here. The Olkari actually have this one band that really sounds great, I got some of their stuff last time we—"

"Wait, wait, wait." The red paladin held up his hands. "Are you fangirling over an Olkari boy band?"

" _I am not!_ "

"Augh, watch the volume, Number Five!" Coran slapped his hands over his ears. "Keep yelling like that and you'll wake up Lance. _And_ probably Zarkon."

"Then tell him I'm not fangirling!" Pidge jabbed an accusing finger toward an openly smirking Keith. "Fangirling is for oatmeal-brained idiots! If I'm going to fangirl it's going to be over Tesla, or Einstein, or Curie. Not an _alien boy band!_ "

Keith's smirk deepened. "So you'd fangirl over a normal boy band?"

"You—!"

Shiro snagged the green paladin around her waist mid-leap, manfully hauling her back down the couch as she growled and clawed at Keith. The black-haired boy for his part scooted out of reach, grinning at the girl's outrage. "Ooh, looks like I hit a sore spot. Guess the tech whiz likes boy bands!"

"I do not, you—you—you lame excuse for _period cramps!_ "

The males in the room looked either confused or mildly horrified at this particularly devastating insult. Allura, however, doubled over laughing, gasping for air as helpless mirth stole her breath and made her eyes tear. Shiro wrestled the snarling green gremlin into a pin and eyed the princess as Pidge tried fruitlessly to bite his metal arm, amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You okay over there, princess?"

"I—oh dear." Allura pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to get her giggles under control. "I'm fine, I just—oh, I am _saving_ that one…"

"Um." Nonplussed, Keith darted a wary look around the circle. "I… don't get it?"

Allura spluttered into laughter again, and Shiro and Coran exchanged a panicked glance. Hunk winced in sympathy. Sometimes he was _really_ glad the only thing he was officially responsible for was the kitchen. Just because he had three sisters didn't mean he wanted to explain this.

"Remember a couple weeks ago, when the girls were a bit… cranky?" Coran finally hedged.

"When Pidge said she was gonna pull out my hair one piece at a time if I didn't leave her in her blanket cocoon, and Allura offered to help?" Keith looked totally confused. "Kinda hard to forget. What's that got to do with it?"

We'll, uh, explain later," the black paladin cut in. "Now's really not the time or the place."

"What, Shiro?" Pidge squirmed out from his grip to smirk at him. "You don't wanna give him The Talk?"

"The Talk?" Keith squeaked.

"No, I don't." Shiro turned a reproachful eye on the grinning girl at his elbow. "Because the version _I_ know is your brother's, and there's no way I want to do that in front of anyone else."

Hazel eyes widened with glee. "Matt gave _you_ The Talk?"

"Yes, he did, because one of the girls in our class tried to take my head off and I couldn't figure out why." The black paladin's cheeks were a bit pink as he poked his smirking companion in the ribs. "And that's not the point right now. We're _trying_ to figure out a birthday present for Lance." He raised an amused eyebrow at Allura. "Are you quite done?"

The princess hiccuped on her giggles, blue eyes sparkling with mirth over the hands she had clamped across her mouth. With an effort she loosened one long enough to make a _carry on_ gesture before a fresh bubble of laughter bent her almost double. Hunk felt his own mouth twitching with the infectious humor, and on impulse he leaned forward to grin at her.

"Hey, Allura. Why did the plane crash?"

She blinked at him, hilarity for a moment subsiding.

"Because the pilot was a loaf of bread!"

Another blink.

And then she was laughing again, all but crying on Coran's shoulder as the hysterics swept her away completely. The bewildered steward patted her back as Pidge cackled aloud, and even Shiro chuckled a bit. Keith's eyes narrowed in a way that told Hunk the other boy was doing his darnedest not to laugh, and the yellow paladin's grin widened. "It's a joke, Keith. You're _supposed_ to laugh."

"Guess I wouldn't know," Keith deadpanned. "Forgot to pick up a sense of humor last time we went shopping."

"Guys…" Shiro pressed the heels of his hands to his temples. "Allura's going to wind up in the infirmary if you keep this up. I thought we were planning Lance's birthday."

"Who says we're not?" the red paladin said innocently. Turned to Pidge. "Remember that place at the mall, where you guys got that video game?"

The girl nodded, brows knitting with puzzlement. "Yeah, why?"

"Were there any musical instruments there?"

"I don't remember any, but there might have been, we didn't go far inside… What's your point?"

"Well…" Keith waved a vague hand. "Lance mentioned playing stuff with his brother a couple times, and when we were talking about music earlier I had this idea…"

* * *

His friends were Up To Something.

Oh, they weren't being _obvious_. They weren't _stupid_. Well, mostly. Keith could be incredibly stupid, given the right circumstances and proper threshold for lethality. But in the past few days Lance had definitely caught a few furtive glances sent his way, and walked in on one too many sudden silences. Something was definitely up.

Not that he thought the others were planning anything bad. But there was something going on to which he was not privy. And it _bothered_ him.

He'd tried to pry whatever it was out of Hunk after he'd caught the yellow paladin talking in low tones to Keith down the hall from the Red Lion's hangar, a place Hunk had no obvious reason to be. But his buddy had just shrugged and flashed him a disarming grin. "I was just looking a a mechanical thing in Red. Keith couldn't figure it out."

"Then why didn't he ask Pidge to do it?" Lance pressed.

"You think I'm not up to the task?" The large boy looked affronted. "Excuse me, but who was your engineer at the Garrison, exactly?"

"The engineer who barfed in the engine box!"

"Doesn't mean I don't know my stuff!" Hunk waved the matter off. "Look, it's no big. There's no problem with Red anyway, it was just a funky wiring thing. Sorry, but I gotta run; I'm trying out this cinnamon roll recipe thing, and they're gonna burn…"

 _That? Was definitely a strategic retreat,_ Lance thought, frowning at his reflection in the mirror over the sink. He'd apparently slept funny, because now the hair on one side of his head was pressed into a mess of sticky-uppy bits that would take some determined combing to conquer. Great way to start the day. When his own hair was rebelling against him…

Ten minutes of growling and furious combing later, he climbed into his civvies and checked his hair one more time. He was pretty sure it was still thinking about being contrary, but for the time being at least it appeared that he'd beaten it into submission. Satisfied, he headed for the door, ready to face whatever enemies and plots the day decided to throw his way—

 _Kk-boof!_

Lance threw up his arms to protect his face as color blasted at him from what seemed like every direction at once. But the impacts didn't hurt, any more than a snowball would. Instead, bits of colored paper and ribbon fluttered around him, a few pieces finding their way down his collar as their momentum was spent and they began to drift to the floor. He blinked at them, bewildered, and edged through the door.

 _Confetti? Why is there—_

Another explosion. Lance screwed his eyes shut and spat out a couple paper scraps that got into his mouth. Eyed the crazy-quilt of colory bits surrounding him, and squinted up at the ceiling.

"You've gotta be kidding me…"

He could just see the open ends of half a dozen spent confetti cannons. _Only_ their open ends. Their sides blurred into the sleek metal of the hall as if they weren't even there, like the walls of the training maze…

 _Pidge used cloaking tech for_ confetti cannons? _What the heck?_

And if she had… Lance eyed the stretch of hallway in front of him suspiciously. There could be dozens more cannons hidden around him, and he'd have no idea until he hit whatever their trip sensors were.

… _Eh. They won't kill me._

He took off in a flat-out sprint, arms up to shield his face. With every step another cannon exploded, and he ran through a blizzard of dizzying color as ribbon and paper bits swirled around him. At last he reached the end of the hall and, after a few steps with no further assaults, he slowed enough to look back. From where he stood all the way back to his bedroom the floor was strewn with a kaleidoscope of colorful disaster, some bits still fluttering about as the almost-nonexistent breeze of the Castle's air filtration system stirred the air.

Something scraped above him, the tiniest sound at the edge of hearing. Lance dove to one side just in time to avoid a lump of green that dropped out of a vent overhead. He'd only just gotten his balance again when Pidge launched herself from the floor and clambered up his back like a monkey, wrapping her legs around his waist. More on reflex than anything Lance gripped her legs to steady her, trying to glare over his shoulder. "What the heck, Pidge—!"

Whatever else he was going to say got cut off as Pidge dropped something over his head. For a moment whatever it was filled his mouth, and Lance sputtered and spat before the girl tugged it clear to fall around his neck.

Then just as suddenly as she'd pounced, Pidge slipped clear of his back and took off down the hall, grinning like a madwoman. Lance gaped after her, considering pursuit. Then he blinked down at the thing she'd put over his head and felt his eyebrows hit his hairline.

 _A lei?_

Well, not exactly a lei. This was more a braid of flower stems than a string of blossoms, constructed rather like an oversized flower crown. But the twist of stems, which his probing fingers told him was reinforced with string, was all but hidden by the mass of small, carnation-like flowers nestled about it, a rope of petal whorls ranging from deepest cobalt to bright sky blue. It was long enough to fall midway down his chest, and as he examined it he noticed a tag hanging loosely from the braid. Curious, he pulled it loose and turned it over.

 _Happy birthday, sharpshooter!_

Lance stared. Blinked. Stared again.

 _It's my birthday?_

He hadn't been keeping track of the days since they'd gone to space. Not that he couldn't have if he'd wanted to; he knew Pidge and Hunk kept meticulous track of the passage of time. But he didn't think he wanted to know exactly how long it had been since he'd been on Earth, because that gap was always widening and… and he didn't want to. It was enough to say that it had "been a while" since he'd been home. He didn't need specifics.

But… his birthday?

At home the celebration would start as soon as he and Rachel were out of bed, probably with pancakes and bacon and piles and piles of fruit. There would be hugs, and singing, and Luis would be enthusiastically off key as everyone else rolled their eyes and grinned, and Mom always made him garlic knots and Rachel her favorite blueberry scones. And of course there would be cake. And probably a cookout dinner, with barbecue and watermelon, and hopefully they'd have been able to convince everyone that they weren't too old for a piñata yet…

He swallowed, and scrubbed at his eyes, and smiled down at the tag in his hand.

 _Thanks, Pidge._

And now that he had an explanation for the confetti storm… guess it was time to find out what else his friends had in store.

* * *

The suspiciously quiet kitchen's only occupant this morning was Hunk, who looked up from a tablet and grinned as Lance walked in. "Hey man, happy birthday! Looks like Pidge already got you, huh?"

"Did she ever," Lance grunted, shaking a few confetti bits out of the hood of his sweatshirt. Reran exactly what Hunk had said. "Wait, how did you know it was Pidge?"

"Oh, she told me what her louloodi was going to be, like, a week ago. And she wanted to get the jump on everyone else, preferably with confetti involved." The chef stuffed a hand into his pocket. "By the way, this is for you."

Lance caught the object his friend tossed across the counter, and frowned at it. Hunk had wrapped wire around a deep blue stone that was probably a gem of some sort—where'd he gotten it?—and put the whole assembly on a string. It was pretty, definitely, but… "What's a louloo…what?"

"Louloodi. It's an Altean thing." Hunk eyed the necklace cradled in the blue paladin's palm. "Um. Could you put that on?"

"…Sure?" Lance dropped the loop of string over his head, letting the stone thump against his chest. "What's the big deal?"

"So the other guys don't beat me to it!" his friend grinned. "Want pancakes? I made chocolate chip."

"Do the Irish love whiskey?"

"Heh." The yellow paladin shoved a laden plate across the counter, topped with a generous dollop of whipped cream. "Here's to a great birthday!"

Lance tucked into the stack of pancakes with gusto, eying his friend as he shoveled in bites rich with butter and cream and melted chocolate. "Thanks, man. This is delicious. Um, so, what's this… louloodi thing?"

"It's an Altean birthday tradition Allura told us about." Hunk poured pancake batter into a pan on the stove; apparently someone hadn't eaten yet. Or maybe he was making extras to save for later. He did that sometimes. "Basically everyone tries to put a necklace on the birthday boy, and if you do, you get to share the cake."

Lance considered that. "So I'm gonna get pounced on by everyone, then?"

The large boy grinned at him. "Probably, yeah."

"Hoo, man. They'd better not all be as violent about it as Pidge was. Otherwise I might not survive the day."

Fortunately they weren't—at least, not violent toward him. Keith, Pidge, and Shiro engaged in a bewildering and slightly terrifying three-way sort of slow-burn showdown throughout the morning, each trying to prevent the others from getting to Lance to give him their louloodia. Everyone else watched the stalking and tussling and made-and-broken alliances between the trio with bewildered amusement. Pidge did manage to rope Hunk into the fight at one point, claiming him as an ally on the grounds that they both had already placed their louloodia and so had mutual stakes in the game. The yellow paladin stuck it out for an impressive period of time before at last edging back to the sidelines, relieved to escape the tension. Meanwhile Allura calmly presented Lance with an elegant weave of white and pale blue ribbons studded here and there with crystalline beads, bestowed with a smile and a quick peck on the cheek. Lance grinned at her.

"So which is the obligatory birthday gift and which is the real one?"

One white eyebrow rose, and the princess tried to look disdainfully down her nose. She didn't quite succeed, as blue eyes twinkled with laughter. "Who says they're not both obligatory?"

"Oh, just a wild guess."

"Well, you can keep guessing, then."

"Guess I will." Lance smirked, then realized something. "Um, by the way, why are those guys—" He motioned toward the faceoff on the far side of the bridge— "fighting, exactly?"

"Part of the Altean birthday tradition," Allura smiled. "Those who place a louloodi are called prosfores, and they get to share the almyra—I believe Hunk said on Earth that's a birthday cake. But the fewer prosfores there are, the more of the almyra there is for each prosfora. You get as much as you want, and then the remainder gets divided between them."

"So they're fighting over who gets to have cake?"

"Simply put, yes." Blue eyes twinkled. "It's part of the fun."

Lance smirked. "Okay, I _like_ this birthday tradition."

"Hunk said the same thing. I think he wants to—"

"Heads up!"

Keith sprinted up the steps to Hunk's work station and leaped onto the back of the chair, then launched himself into the air. The vault was aimed to clear Shiro, and the black paladin just missed snatching his friend's ankle as it passed overhead. Keith landed in a crouch before the older man could recover and bolted toward Lance, a reckless gleam in his eye. "Watch out, coming in hot!"

Lance only just had time to set his feet before the red paladin crashed into him, making him stagger. "Hey, dude, careful!"

Keith didn't even bother to steady himself, just reached up and yanked a cord over Lance's head. Then Pidge plowed into them and all three went down in a heap of yells and flailing limbs. The green paladin squirmed free rolled clear, glowering. "No fair, you run faster than I can!"

"Hey, nobody said that wasn't in the rules." Keith pried himself off the floor with a smirk. "And by the way—I win."

"That's what _you_ think. And anyway, _I_ got mine first."

"Whatever." The red paladin stuck out a hand to help Lance up, grinning sheepishly. "Hey, sorry about that. You all right?"

"Aside from a few broken ribs, yeah, I'm fine." Lance tried to roll his eyes, but a grin broke through anyway. "Aren't you guys taking this a bit too seriously?"

Pidge gave him an arch look. "Um, no."

"Hmm. So that means all of you will be teaming up against Shiro now?"

The pair blinked. Swiveled around to eye the black paladin, who'd been trying to sneak up behind them. Smirked.

Shiro looked at them like a deer in the headlights, and glared at Lance.

Lance grinned.

As the contest resumed, this time with more defined teams, the blue paladin took a moment to study Keith's louloodi. It consisted of a simple black cord, from which hung a wooden pendant shaped like a lion's head. The Blue Lion's head, to be specific, carved in minimal but precise detail. Apparently that Marmora knife was useful for something after all. It bumped against Hunk's crystal, the soft tap-tap of wood on stone, and Lance had to smile.

"Ahoy, Number Three!" Coran appeared at his elbow, twirling his mustache. "I hear it's your birthday! I hope you're having a good one!"

"I am, thanks Coran." The blue paladin grinned at the steward. "This louloodi tradition thing is super entertaining."

That it is," the ginger chuckled. "That it is. Speaking of which—"

A gloved hand snapped out, and a wheel of color dropped past Lance's eyes to land on his shoulders. He blinked down at the string of quilled paper beads, each one banded with varying shades of blue, and Coran tipped him a wink.

"Just making sure I've got my ticket in!"

The other three paladins held Shiro off for the better part of the day, but at last they all hit the training deck to run some drills. Before they started an agreement was reached that training time was off-limits for louloodi placement. Lance also removed the ones he'd already been given so they wouldn't get damaged, promising to put them all back on as soon as they were done. After training, however, he lingered in the shower as usual to enjoy the water while the others hurried through their own cleanup and went to wait in the hall. In the middle of sticking his face into the cascade yet again, he heard a "psst."

He blinked, not sure if his ears were playing tricks on him. The splashing water was kinda loud—

"Psst. Hey. Lance."

Not his imagination. Lance wiped water from his eyes and tugged aside a corner of the shower curtain enough to peek out. "Yeah?"

Shiro darted a glance at the hall door, looking remarkably like a kid with a secret stash of candy. "Quick, before anyone comes in. Here."

He shoved a small object at the gap in the curtain. Lance took it, unable to resist a smirk. "I thought you agreed not during training."

"I did. But this isn't training." The black paladin grinned at his own adherence to the letter of the law. "Don't worry, it's fine in the water."

Lance slipped the string over his head, admiring the palm-sized conch shell dangling from it by a loop of wire. Its twisting curves were striped brown and white, but around the lip and through the visible interior the shell was touched with delicate powder blue. It was so like something he might pick up off the beach at home…

"Thanks, Shiro," he said softly. "This is beautiful."

"You're welcome." Feet shuffled on the other side of the curtain, probably the black paladin rubbing the back of his neck. "It's not actually really meant for wearing, since it's so large, so that wire comes off so you can keep it on a shelf or something… Just figured, for today—"

"No, it's good. It's great, actually." Lance shut off the water and reached for a towel, pulling the curtain aside just enough to smirk at the older man. "And by the way, the others are going to have a _fit_ when they see this."

Shiro grinned. "I think I'm going to escape to the bridge while I still can."

"Good luck with that."

A howl did indeed go up from the red and green paladins when Lance stepped into the hall with Shiro's shell nestled amid the other louloodia. "He promised not during training!" Pidge cried, throwing up her arms.

"Yeah, well…" Lance shrugged, and tried for a disarming smile. "He said that he promised training was off limits, but not showers."

Keith stuck out his lower lip. "Looks like we need to go explain a few things to our vaunted leader. How 'bout it, Pidge?"

"How 'bout nothing." Hunk folded his arms to glare at the others. "I need you guys' help in the kitchen. Lance, you wait on the bridge. We'll call you when dinner's ready."

"But Hunk!" Pidge started.

"Nuh-uh. Shiro's perfectly within his rights to give Lance his louloodi during the showers. I heard your agreement, and he specified only during training was off limits. Next time, be more careful about your wording." He turned on his heel, beckoning with an imperious hand. "Now come on. Let's take care of the food, shall we?"

* * *

Dinner was a raucous affair, fueled with bountiful platters of deliciousness that even included garlic knots. Not quite like Mom's, but Hunk had done his darnedest, and Lance was grateful. Someone opened the meal by asking the blue paladin what his craziest birthday story was, and after Lance had regaled them all with the tale of how the bathroom plumbing had exploded in the middle of his ninth birthday party Pidge chimed in with the time Matt managed to set the dining room tablecloth on fire. Then it was a free-for-all, swapping stories and laughing at shared memories as they plowed their way through the festive spread. By the time the forks stopped _tink_ ing against the plates Lance's face ached from smiling even as his stomach ached from so much food.

For a long moment they all sat in comfortable silence, satiated and warmed by good company. Then Hunk clapped his hands and got to his feet. "All right, guys, let's get this show on the road. Pidge, Keith—"

"We're right with you." The girl jumped up and began clearing away dishes, eying Lance sidelong. "Um, what about—"

"I know." Shiro raised an eyebrow at the blue paladin. "Hey, Lance, you up for a game of checkers?"

"Uh… sure." Lance followed his leader out of the dining hall. Paused in the doorway to eye the stifled grins on the faces behind him, and edged after Shiro. "Um. Should I be afraid?"

"Afraid?" The black paladin chuckled. "Of course not. We do have a few more things planned for the evening, though."

"So… it won't kill me, but I still might get jumped with something that almost might."

"Well, _I_ won't jump you," Shiro said virtuously. "Can't make any promises for the others, though."

 _Hoo boy…_

They set up the game in what had become the game corner of the lounge. Lance yielded the black checkers to Shiro, and the pair hunched over the board with intense concentration. As always in checkers, the first few moves were inconclusive, but after several minutes both paladins had begun to accrue decent collections of each other's pieces. Lance leaned back on one hand, studying the board as he figured out his next move, and smirked at his opponent. "You know, back home, I was the reigning checkers champion."

"Big talk for a guy about to get wiped off the map," Shiro grinned back. "And I hear that, back home, you were also known as 'The Tailor'. Pretty sure that didn't turn out too well."

"Hey, I've gotten better!" The blue paladin wrinkled his nose, affronted. "Bet I could run circles around the Garrison pilots now. In Blue, anyway."

"Hmm. I'd take that bet."

Lance blinked. Twice. "You… what?"

"I'm serious." Grey eyes were smiling, but with warmth, not laughter. "You guys have all become good pilots. Very good pilots. And out of all of us, you were the first paladin, and you've been a great teammate ever since. You've done good work, Lance. I'm glad I've got you to watch my back."

"I…" Lance swallowed. "Thanks, Shiro. That means a lot."

"Of course—" The older man leaned forward, smile edging into a teasing grin— "it does help that you've got a sentient ship that can go faster than the speed of light. If you ever went toe to toe with a Garrison ship, that _might_ count as cheating."

"Not my fault they're still in the Stone Age," Lance grinned back. "Hey, how bad of a heart attack do you think Commander Iverson will have if he ever fines out his crazy flunker cadets are flying alien spaceships?"

Shiro laughed. "They'd better have an AED handy when he gets that bit of news!"

"Sure hope I'm there to see it. Even better, get it on video." The blue paladin reached for a checker, smirking as he hopped it twice. "And by the way… king me."

"…Darn you." Shiro placed one of his captured checkers on the triumphant piece. Narrowed his eyes at the board, and jumped his own checker over one of Lance's. "And I thought this was going so well."

"Hey, you're actually trying to beat the birthday boy? What kind of monster are you?"

"One who plays by the rules, troublemaker."

"Oh, I'm the troublemaker now? Who _technically_ wasn't breaking his agreement earlier to not place a louloodi during training?"

"Hey, I wasn't! That was totally fair!"

" _Sure_ it was."

"Yes, it definitely was!"

"If you say so, O wise and intrepid leader."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Oh, nothing. Except you're definitely putting some weight behind Pidge's theory that you're actually six."

"That's not the way leap year birthdays work and you know it."

"Aaand there you go again with the rules-lawyering."

"Is that what you call pointing out the way things are?"

"No, it's what I call finding loopholes and crawling right through them."

"That's just adhering to the letter of the law."

"Uh-huh, _right_. You do know Keith and Pidge are going to give you grief about that training thing forever?"

"Oh, we _definitely_ are," said a voice from the door.

Both paladins turned to look at Keith, who grinned at them over folded arms and nodded toward the couches. "Hate to interrupt such an entertaining argument, but I think you guys should move down there before the parade gets here."

"Parade…?" Lance darted a glance at Shiro, but his friend just grinned and swung over the back of one of the couches to drop happily onto the cushions. The blue paladin cautiously followed suit, keeping one eye on Keith and the open door as he did so. Keith grinned at him and stuck his head through the doorway.

"All set in here, guys!"

Outside, someone giggled.

Then they were marching in, singing at the top of their lungs while Coran proudly brought up the rear with a floating serving cart on which rested a blue-iced cake adorned with candles. The steward beamed at Lance as he brought the cart to a halt in front of the blue paladin, half a beat behind the other singers as he tried to keep up with the old Earth tune.

 _Happy birthday to you,  
Happy birthday to you,  
Happy birthday dear La-ance—_

The singers paused just long enough to draw breath. Lance grinned, and braced himself.

 _Happy birthday tooo yooouuu!_

Whoops and laughter rang through the room as Keith and Pidge blasted the blue paladin with their squawker horns and Shiro, Allura, and Hunk all fired off confetti poppers. Lance tried to fend off the enthusiastic assault, not sure if his face would hold together from smiling so hard. "You guys are crazy, you know that, right?"

"We have to be crazy to be friends with _you_." Keith jabbed him in the ribs with the tip of his horn. "Go on, hurry up and blow out the candles. I want cake!"

"Make a wish!" Hunk chimed in.

Lance brushed a bit of confetti out of his face. Thought for a moment.

Leaned forward, and blew.

He didn't have to race Rachel this year, to get the most candles. He missed that. But looking at the circle of happy faces around him… this was still a good birthday.

Scratch that. A _great_ birthday.

Amid the cheers, Coran produced a cake cutter with a flourish and deftly sliced into what was obviously Hunk's creation, sky blue icing trimmed with white and topped with an iced bundle of Voltron-colored balloons and white-piped _Happy birthday, Lance!_ Pidge slid down to help the steward with the plates, hazel eyes gleaming behind her glasses. "I call second slice!"

"Hey, I made it!" Hunk protested. "I should get second slice!"

"Hang on now, guys." Shiro waved a pacifying hand. "We all placed louloodia, right? So how about we get our pieces in the order we placed them?"

"Sounds fair to me." Keith flopped onto the couch with a smirk. "And that _does_ mean we all get ours before you do. Guess that's your payback for cheating."

The black paladin tried for injured outrage. He didn't quite make it. "I didn't cheat!"

"I'm pretty sure you definitely did."

"I followed exactly what we agreed to!"

"Showers definitely count as part of training."

Shiro opened his mouth to protest further—then grinned broadly, and turned to Allura. "Princess, what you you decide? Does placing a louloodi in the showers after training, when you agreed not to place one during training, count as cheating?"

The girl raised an eyebrow in an attempt to look severe, even as laughter played at the corners of her mouth. "So whatever I decide, you will abide by?"

"Well…" Shiro's smile went toothy. "I definitely didn't cheat."

"Hmm, then why are you asking me?"

"Because he says I did! And I didn't!"

Lance snickered as he stuck a fork into his slice of cake. "Man, you _really_ sound like a six-year-old now."

"I do not!"

"Are you even listening to yourself?" Pidge smirked.

Shiro groaned and threw an arm across his face. "You guys are _insufferable_."

"Fancy words from the toddler," Keith fired back.

"Hey…"

Lance took another bite of cake—Hunk had really outdone himself this time, the confection all but melted in his mouth and tasted of vanilla and buttercream—and grinned at the others around the deliciousness. "How about this, guys. I use my powers as the birthday boy to declare that Shiro didn't cheat, and we all stuff our faces with this amazing cake instead of arguing?"

"I thought we were going to stuff our faces anyway," Keith protested.

"Well, yeah, but let's not argue while doing it."

"Okay, okay, if you _insist_." The red paladin sighed dramatically and took a large bite of his own slice. Sighed again, this time in pleasure. "Hunk, this is _amazing_."

"Glad you like it," the large boy grinned back. "Thanks for the help with the icing."

"Wait, wait, wait." Lance held up his hands. " _Keith_ helped you decorate a cake?"

"Well, yeah." Hunk shrugged. "I did the fancy bits, but he chipped in with the basic stuff."

The blue paladin blinked. Turned to stare at the boy at his elbow. "Since when do you do kitchen anything?"

Keith rolled his eyes. "Hunk's been teaching me. Apparently the kitchen stock when you guys crashed my place was atrocious and no human being should ever have such miserable food. Or something like that."

"No, that's about right." Hunk dug into his slice of cake with relish. "I mean, what _did_ you eat there, man? Cactuses?"

"Cactus juice," Pidge muttered. "It's the quenchiest!"

Shiro choked, his face going beet red as he tried to cough up inhaled cake while laughing at the same time. A smirking Allura pounded him on the back. "Cake is for eating, not breathing, Shiro. Although perhaps a six-year-old isn't quite aware of that."

The man tried to glare at her, eyes tearing as his respiratory system rebelled against him. "Not… you… too…"

Lance high-fived the green paladin. "Nice one!"

"Speaking of nice ones…" Coran twirled his mustache. "Shall we bring out that last item?"

"Might want to wait until Shiro can breathe again," Keith said wryly. Raised an eyebrow at his wheezing leader. "You good over there? Or does someone need to give you CPR?"

Pidge put a hand to her mouth to cover her mock whisper, grinning wickedly. "I bet he'd _love_ for Allura to give him CPR."

Shiro went a truly alarming shade of red, coughing violently as Allura snickered into her hand. The other paladins showed no such restraint, cackling like hyenas while their eldest member tried to make his lungs work properly through streaming eyes and burning face. Hunk joined in the laughter, but took pity on the black paladin and offered him one of the glasses of water resting on the cart. "Here, man, this might help."

Shiro sputtered on the first swallow, but it did seem to get his airway open again, and he sucked in a raspy breath as he narrowed his eyes at Pidge. "Are you _trying_ to kill me?"

"Not at all!" The girl flashed him an innocent smile. "Just pointing out the obvious!"

Shiro took another careful sip of water, very definitely not looking at the grinning Allura. Eyed the circle of smirking faces, and pinched the bridge of his nose, effectively covering his line of sight—and his flaming cheeks. "Just… get on with it, will you?"

The others exchanged delighted grins. Then the princess slipped off the couch and crouched on the opposite side of the cart from Lance. Hunk and Coran stepped in to help her remove an item from beneath the cart's lacy cloth, and she rose holding a large black case whose familiarity startled Lance into sitting bolt upright. The girl stepped smoothly around the cart and placed the object in the blue paladin's lap, smiling at the dawning wonder in his eyes. "This is from all of us, Lance. With our love and best wishes."

Lance couldn't take his eyes off the case as his hands fumbled on the clasps and eased open the lid. He had done this so, so many times before, when Luis had given him his first lessons and then when he'd gotten one of his own…

The inside of the case was lined with velvet of the deepest black, but that was only a footnote to the wonder of the case's contents. Lance set the case on the floor in an almost dreamlike state and lifted from it a beautifully crafted acoustic guitar. Finished with a glossy black pick guard that matched the fretboard and tuning pegs, the instrument's body was painted a deep midnight blue. And beneath the bridge, surrounded by a tumble of cerulean hibiscus blossoms that curled around the edge of the guitar like a crashing wave, bounded the Blue Lion. Captured in profile, the one visible yellow eye seemed to wink up at the paladin as he ran his hand over the sleek finish. And… yes, there around the sides ran the other four Lions, smaller than Blue though no less true to life, and with them was the Castle and even a tiny Kaltenecker, drifting among the overflowing cascade of hibiscus flowers. Lance traced the designs with a finger, scarcely able to breathe. "Guys, I… _How?_ "

"It was Keith's idea," Shiro replied. His cheeks were still a bit pink, but he was at least breathing properly now as he grinned at the astonished blue paladin. "The rest of us chipped in on what we could remember about guitars, and Pidge did some digging through secondhand shops for extra stuff, and Coran found a guy who could make it for us. We all helped with the painting design. You like it?"

"Like it?" Lance laughed, and choked, and pressed a fist to his mouth as something caught in his throat and prickled at his eyes. "I—guys, I _love_ it."

Keith nudged his shoulder and pointed with his chin toward the case. "There's picks and a strap and tuner in there. And one of those string clip things."

"Capo," Lance corrected almost absently, reaching for the case. He wasted no time fishing out a pick and the tuner and tweaking the strings until they sang in proper harmony. That funny feeling in his throat slid down into his chest, hot and tight and aching and happy all at once, and even though it hurt he couldn't stop himself grinning until his face felt like it might crack as the old sounds and motions and memories fell into place. The others had all settled onto the surrounding couches with an expectant air and the blue paladin looked around the circle, wondering at just how happy the others seemed to be because he was happy. "I—um, what should I play?"

"I dunno." Pidge pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them, grinning at him over her kneecaps. "What do you know?"

"Lots of stuff. It's just been a while."

"Maybe get warmed up first," Hunk suggested.

Lance strummed his way through a series of chords, played snippets from several favorite songs. Tinkered with the tuning a couple times, and tried a few fancy riffs. Plucked absently at the strings, a bit startled to realize how self-conscious he felt under the scrutiny of so many eyes, friendly or otherwise. "Uh, guys, I'm not sure I really remember too much all that well…"

"Hey, we're not expecting you to play for us," Hunk grinned at him. "We're just glad you're enjoying yourself."

"Ain't that the truth." Lance strummed a chord, savoring the rich timbre of the instrument in his hands. "This thing is _fantastic_. You guys really shouldn't have gone to all that effort."

"Yes, we should have." Shiro raised a severe eyebrow, but his eyes twinkled. "You deserve it."

"It does sound lovely." Allura rested her chin on her hand, listening with obvious interest. "What sort of songs do you usually play?"

Lance shrugged. "All kinds. Pop, rock, folk, stuff from movies…"

An idea twigged at his memory, fueled by the smiles and the cozy, almost intimate atmosphere. Not the easiest one to play, but…

"It seems to be quite a versatile instrument," the princess remarked. "How long have you been playing?"

"My brother first started teaching me when I was nine or ten." Lance checked his tuning again and began to pluck out a melody. Softly, just to see if anyone recognized it. "I really started putting effort into it maybe around twelve."

At his elbow Pidge shifted, head coming up to listen. Hunk leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees, and Shiro smiled. "You know that one?"

"I do, yeah." Lance grinned at the black paladin. "I can give it a shot. You guys wanna join?"

"Don't know if I remember all the words," Hunk said regretfully. "I'll do my best, though."

"Fine by me."

He took a breath, letting the strings sing into silence as he tapped his fingers against the guitar's edge.

Then the first chord filled the room with glorious sound, rich and clear and soaring to the ceiling. Memory settled his hands into patterns they didn't know they remembered, and the driving beat loosened that tightness in his chest as he breathed again, and found his voice.

 _Put your faith in what you most believe in  
Two worlds, one family  
Trust your heart  
Let fate decide  
To guide these lives we see_

It was easier than he'd expected. Soothing, even, as familiar music and bittersweet memory crept in to warm the last cold corners the rest of the day's joys had not yet been able to reach. On either side of him Keith and Pidge began to tap out the rhythm, while Hunk stumbled through the words and Shiro hummed along. Lance grinned at them.

 _A paradise untouched by man  
Within this world blessed with love  
A simple life, they live in peace_

 _Softly tread the sand below your feet now  
Two worlds, one family  
Trust your heart  
Let fate decide  
To guide these lives we see_

Coran's face hovered somewhere between wistfulness and delight, while Allura beamed like the rising sun. The other paladins all wore similar grins, Shiro's so broad that it threatened to spoil his humming. Their delight was infectious, and Lance felt his own face beginning to ache from so much smiling.

 _Beneath the shelter of the trees  
Only love can enter here  
A simple life, they live in peace_

 _Raise your head up  
Lift high the load  
Take strength from those that need you  
Build high the walls  
Build strong the beams  
A new life is waiting  
But danger's no stranger here_

Well, wasn't that the truth. They all risked life and limb almost every day. But with Voltron, with their team, their crazy, ridiculous, wonderful team patched together from Alteans and humans pulled from the furthest corners of the universe…

Yeah. This song was a good pick.

 _No words describe a mother's tears  
No words can heal a broken heart  
A dream is gone, but where there's hope_

 _Somewhere something is calling for you  
Two worlds, one family  
Trust your heart  
Let fate decide  
To guide these lives we see_

Lance let the music die away, bringing the song to a gentle close. Drank in every last drop of the final notes, shimmering in the air, as contented sighs breathed around him, and looked up at the circle of happy faces. Pidge's expression was bittersweet, while Keith had a weird little grin and Hunk and Coran were smiling through suspiciously glassy eyes. Allura's delight lit up the room, and Shiro—

Lance blinked. The black paladin was smiling too, with a warmth that oddly reminded Lance of the look his dad used to give him when he'd done something exceptionally well. A look of… pride?

 _What did I do? It was just a song._

"Man." Hunk sniffled loudly, and beamed at his friend. "That was awesome, Lance."

"Yeah," Pidge chimed in. "Great song pick too."

"Hey, I think we've established by now that Disney is pretty much the best thing there is," Lance grinned at them. "And Phil Collins is, like, _the_ best."

"I guess I'll have to give you that one," Keith said wryly. "Survivor's still a close second, though."

Lance sighed in mock resignation. "You and your rock 'n' roll."

"What about me and my rock 'n' roll?"

"We'll have to pry it from your cold, dead hands, won't we?"

"Sounds about right," Shiro chuckled, leaving his place on the couch beside Allura to wedge himself between the two bantering paladins. He threw an easy arm around Lance's shoulders as he raised an amused eyebrow at Keith. "Survivor's your favorite band, aren't they? What's your favorite one of their songs?"

"They're the ones who did 'Eye of the Tiger', right?" Hunk asked from the opposite couch.

"Yeah, they are." Keith frowned as he combed through memory. "If I had to pick a favorite… probably 'Fire Makes Steel'. I think."

"Don't know that one," Lance reflected, picking gently at the guitar strings. "Guess you'll have to teach me sometime."

"Might be in the karaoke machine," Pidge piped up.

The red paladin grinned at her around Lance and Shiro. "Hey, good idea!"

"An idea we will _not_ investigate tonight," Allura cut in, smiling even as she raised severe eyebrows at the little assembly. "It's late, and we should start getting ready for bed."

Shiro let out a gusty sigh. "I guess _someone_ has to be the voice of reason."

"And that's not you?" the princess fired back.

The black paladin grinned at her. "Since when has it ever been?"

Allura folded her arms, trying to glare. Her twitching mouth betrayed her. "Hmm, you make a good point. Why _do_ we keep you around?"

"To make bad jokes and choke on cake?" Lance offered cheekily.

Shiro whacked him lightly on the head. "Oh, shut up, you."

Lance ducked away, laughing, but Shiro dragged him back by the shoulders and pulled him into a hug, managing to squeeze him tightly without crushing the louloodia between them. The startled blue paladin froze for a moment. Then grinned, and got one arm around his friend in return, the other hanging protectively onto the guitar. Pidge rescued the instrument and laid it gently in its case, smirking at Shiro. "Hug pile?"

"Sure."

Next thing he knew Lance was swarmed by grins and warm arms as the other members of his team squashed in to join the hug, Pidge pressing up on his other side while Keith knelt on the couch behind Shiro with one hand on the black paladin's shoulders and the other on Hunk's. Those who couldn't fit on the couch put arms around those who could, forming a happy mass of multi-layered embrace as they all laughed at the ridiculous chaos. A bit dazed, entangled in hugs, Lance grinned up at the friends surrounding him. Shiro caught his eye, and smiled back.

"Happy birthday, Lance."

* * *

This chapter was written in part because I've seen a lot of stuff bashing the rest of the team for not supporting Lance, and while we granted don't see much of it on screen there's no way anyone will ever convince me that they don't give 110% for him just like he does for them. Sure, they might not catch every single thing he could use some comfort and company for, but nobody ever does. They're not perfect, but they're trying their darnedest. Give them a break. Also, I really wanted Lance to have a painted guitar. Hee.

The song is Phil Collins' "Two Worlds, One Family" from _Tarzan._

If you don't know where the cactus juice line came from, go watch _Avatar: The Last Airbender_. And then go read Vathara's _Embers_ fic, because it takes a fantastic show and makes it _ten times better._

The Altean words actually have real-world roots (for once), all from Greek.

Prosfora/prosfores = offering/offerings

Louloodi/louloodia comes from louloudi/louloudia = flower/flowers

Almyra = savory

I've seen a couple things about how Pidge handles her period in space, but all of them seem to assume Alteans don't have periods. Which is a shame, because it is so much funnier to me to imagine Pidge and Allura syncing up. It increases the terror level exponentially. Also, Matt Holt would definitely have knowledge of Shark Week by the time he got to the Garrison. Scientists, especially those around the biological sciences (and I have my reasons for headcanoning Mrs. Holt being involved in biochem) tend to be pretty straightforward about bodies and biological processes—knowledge (and attitude) we then gleefully inflict upon everyone around us.

The "why did the plane crash" thing is a real how-sleepy-are-you test my friends and I used in college. It actually works; if you're past the point of no return into slap-happy sleep deprivation, you usually can't resist falling apart laughing at the question and answer's absurdity, especially if it's delivered with a huge grin. Veterans of this phrase, who may have become desensitized to its innate ridiculousness, can often have their true sleepiness exposed with the following addition to the answer: "but it would have been funnier if he were a pancake!" This is the important life information I learned in college. And yes, I have been in Allura's state of hysterics before. Many times, actually.

Please review!


	10. Space Dance

"Hey, Pidge, what'cha up to?"

"Useful things. Unlike you." Pidge smirked at her brother, who was spending a couple weeks on the Castle to help coordinate some operations with the resistance. In theory, anyway. In reality he'd mostly occupied himself with creative ways to entertain, pester, and otherwise distract the team from their work. "You wanna help or are you just here to annoy me?"

"Neither actually." Matt boosted himself up to perch on her workbench. "I was just on the bridge and Allura was talking about that visit you've got coming up to the Obleks. Sounds like you guys'll have to be doing a lot of dancing."

"Really? Why?"

"Apparently that's one of their things. Dancing's real important to them, I guess. Which got me thinking. So, I _know_ Shiro's a terrible dancer. I've seen him at the Garrison dances, and he doesn't just have two left feet, he's got thumbs for feet."

Pidge snickered. "He's really that bad?"

" _Oh_ yeah. He needs some real work before he can be allowed out in public. You got any idea about the others?"

"I'd guess Allura knows how to dance, but Altean dances probably aren't much like ours. Hunk and Keith and Lance, though…" The green paladin wrinkled her nose. "I'm kinda scared to find out."

"Right. Then we should find out now, before you're at some fancy diplomatic event and embarrass yourselves."

"You know the Oblek dances?"

"Nah, if they've got special dances you're on your own. But from the sound of it they just expect you to dance at all, not do something in particular. Not just one dance, though. This is, like, their social activity. So you'll have to do a lot of it. I was thinking waltz, that's a good slow dance, and maybe rumba, and East Coast swing is pretty simple so that's good for faster music, and—"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hang on!" Pidge held up her hands. "I thought I just told you most of these guys have no idea how to dance. You're planning to teach them all that in a week?"

"Why not? It's not like you guys are doing much else right now." Matt smirked at her. "Unless you want to help me make lasagna. You know, like old times."

"Over your dead body. If I want lasagna I'm asking Hunk."

"That's what I thought. So how 'bout it? I can teach if you'll help me."

"…Fine. But Take it slowly, okay? I don't think we'll be able to pack all that stuff in in just a few days."

"Oh, ye of little faith. Don't underestimate me!" Matt flashed her a mischievous smirk. "I'll go round up the others if you can find us some decent dance music. Although, where should we do this?"

"Might as well use the training deck. I can hook the music into the speaker system."

"Perfect. Meet you there in ten!"

It was actually closer to thirty, because the Castle was big and it took a while to find everyone, but at last all the victims were gathered and Matt launched enthusiastically into his ballroom dance crash course.

"I'm sure you're wondering why I've gathered you here today—"

"Cut to the chase, showoff," Shiro interrupted, grinning at his friend. "You already told us multiple times what we're supposed to be doing."

"Yeah, yeah, but it stands repeating. Though I have to say it appears to be my lucky day, because I've finally got _you_ captive." Matt bestowed a grin on the black paladin that would do the Cheshire Cat proud. "No courses to run off to or paperwork to worry about. So you gonna learn today!"

"You've tried to teach him before?" Lance asked gleefully.

" _So_ many times." Matt threw a dramatic hand to his brow. "I swore an oath that I would teach this moron how to dance, and that day has finally come. So! Let's get started!"

They plunged into the lesson. Pidge had to admit her brother was a good teacher—not that she would ever tell him that. Matt patiently walked the guys through the basic waltz box step over and over again while Pidge showed Allura the proper footwork. The Altean girl picked it up quickly. "I've had some dance lessons before," she explained when the green paladin asked. "Part of my diplomatic training. I didn't have the opportunity to do it much after the war started, though."

"Well, plenty of opportunity now." Pidge grinned at her. "Now we get to help these clods figure out how to partner dance. This'll probably take a while."

It took longer for some than for others. Matt split the guys by height, putting Allura with Shiro and Hunk while Pidge rotated between Keith and Lance. Her brother moved around the group, offering advice and harassing whoever wasn't dancing at any given moment into practicing the basic waltz box step on their own. To Pidge's surprise Lance picked it up almost right away, and she soon moved him on to the progressive step and a basic turn. Keith, however, couldn't seem to figure out the rhythm, and he kept starting over with increasing frustration.

"I just can't get it!" he growled after colliding with her for the fifth or sixth time. "It doesn't feel right at all!"

Pidge decided to be helpful instead of sarcastic and thought the matter over. "Maybe… think of it like a fight? Fighting has a rhythm, right?"

"Well, yeah, but in a fight I've got a weapon."

"Okay, but you also have teammates. And you're moving around. I'm your teammate, so pretend you're trying to help me get through a fight to a safe zone."

Keith looked doubtful, but after that his efforts started to improve. Relatively, anyway. Pidge stifled a sigh and glanced toward the others. Hunk wasn't as quick on the mark as Lance but he was still doing quite well, gliding across the floor with surprising grace. Matt looked ready to have a conniption over Shiro, however, as the sheepish black paladin shuffled through the box step. "Oh, jelly bean and sausage pizza… it's like an elephant doing Irish step dance. Do you even lift? Then lift your feet up! You're tripping yourself!"

"Get off your heels," Pidge called over to Shiro, who looked like he wanted to either melt into a puddle or fall over laughing. "The waltz is on the toes and balls of the feet."

"How do you guys know so much about this?" Hunk asked, breaking off his dance with Allura to give the Holts a curious look. "I thought you guys did, like, science and stuff."

"Well, duh." Pidge shared a grin with her brother. "But Mom's a professional dance instructor. We grew up doing this."

"Wait, seriously?" Lance stared between them. "But you're all—you know, brainy!"

"Since when does that mean we can't dance, too?" Pidge fired back. "And Mom's _plenty_ smart. She helped me get into the academy as Pidge Gunderson. But she's also a great dancer. She and Dad even won prizes for it."

"Hang on, your dad's a dancer, too?" Shiro broke into a huge grin. "He never mentioned it to me before."

Matt laughed. "That's actually how he and Mom met. See, she started teaching to help cover finances during grad school…"

* * *

Colleen took a long gulp from her water bottle, grateful for the break. She'd been dancing for over an hour, rotating between students, and while she loved being a ballroom dance instructor it could also be kind of exhausting. And dehydrating. Their building had decent air conditioning, thank goodness, but thirty or forty people out on the floor at once made the room rather warm no matter how hard they tried to cool the place down.

 _At least the fans are working today._

No kidding. Last month they'd had a torturous few days before a mechanic could make it there, and—

"Hey, Colleen!" One of the other instructors paused in his spin across the dance floor. "Manuel just showed up, and he's got a new guy with him. Could you handle it?"

"Sure thing, Gabe." Colleen took a last sip of water and headed for the door. Newbies didn't usually come to open dance nights, but when they did someone usually gave them individual instruction so they could actually participate. Which meant she was going to have to spend the evening doing the basics over and over again.

 _Great. And we_ _'ve got some advanced people here too. I was hoping to have some fun…_

She dredged up a professional smile for the newcomers, giving a wave to the one she knew. "Hi, Manuel, it's been a few weeks. Good to have you back."

"Yeah, well, got bogged down with work." The dark-haired man returned her smile and jabbed a thumb at his companion. "But I brought a challenge for you. This is Sam, who's here because he lost a bet. Think you can get him to have some fun tonight?"

Colleen took in Sam's good-natured eye roll, the air of an academic man very much out of his comfort zone. _Guess I_ _'m not the only one stuck with the short straw._ "I think we can manage."

Manuel grinned. "Good, because I've got five dollars on him actually enjoying himself."

Colleen had to laugh at the wicked twinkle in his eye. "I don't know, that sounds like I would win the money, not you. I'm not going to work if I don't get paid."

"…Are you trying to con me?"

"It's not conning, it's doing business."

Sam coughed on a laugh, adjusting his glasses. "She's got you there, my friend."

"You're the one who's gonna give me the five in the first place!" Manuel protested. "Why are you siding with her?"

"Let's be honest, man, she's _way_ prettier than you are."

"Well, look at you, trying to score points with the teach."

"That's what _you_ say. Ever occur to you, though, that if the money's going to you I'll just say I didn't enjoy myself whatever the case?" Sam grinned wryly at Colleen. "If she's getting it, I actually have motivation to have fun."

"Holtses. Too tricksy, too tricksy!" Manuel thumped his slender friend on the back. "Fine, if you have fun I'll give her the money. But I still get bragging rights. Savvy?"

Sam sighed. "I am well aware that you plan to put 'Sam Holt socialized' on posters all over the physics department if you actually pull this off."

"Hadn't actually thought of that, but that's a great idea."

"You're sadistic."

"I'm _brilliant._ " Manuel gave Colleen a wink. "Well, now that that's settled, I'm going to leave you in this lovely lady's capable hands and go whisk a few damsels off their feet."

Regular Don Juan you are," Colleen shot back. "Just don't drop anyone, okay?"

The dark-haired man laughed and started across the dance floor. "I'll do my best. Good luck with the brainiac!"

"Drop anyone?" Sam looked mildly disconcerted. "People fall doing this?"

Colleen shrugged. "It does happen, but we've never had anyone actually get hurt. Usually there's a mix-up and someone wasn't prepared for a dip is all." She smiled at him. "So, have you ever danced before?"

"Not unless you count the obligatory wedding shuffle." Sam fidgeted with his glasses, looking a bit sheepish. "Um. Sorry, but I didn't catch your name."

"Oh, my bad." Colleen stuck out her hand. "I'm Colleen Marcello, one of the instructors here."

"I'm Sam Holt. So, uh… how does this work?"

"Well, tonight's an open dance night so we're not doing group instruction, but no worries, we get new people in all the time. How about I show you East Coast swing?"

"No idea what that is, but okay."

"All right. You'll be the lead and I'm the follow, so you're going to mirror what I do. You start with the left foot…"

She led him to a relatively quiet corner and began to walk him through the basics of the dance—triple step, triple step, rock step, open and closed position, following the music. Sam took every word seriously, a slight frown over his glasses as he followed her instructions. He didn't seem to have a great sense of rhythm, but gradually he got the hang of the footwork. Colleen gauged his confidence level and finally decided he was ready to move on. "Okay, so, one of the first moves you can do with this is the basic turn. It goes like this—no, keep doing the basic step, you're going to spin me under your arm."

"But if I do that I'll bump into you," Sam protested, frozen to the spot.

"No, you won't, because I'll be moving too. We're pretty much going to end up where the other started."

She was almost positive her student forced down a nervous gulp before he nodded. "Okay, I'll give it a try."

He did try. Multiple times. And with every attempt he did collide with Colleen, or stepped on her foot, or got completely out of rhythm, or dropped her hand halfway through. Colleen could feel his frustration mounting with each failed try, likely made worse by the crowd of more skilled dancers around them. At one point Manuel spun by, grinning gleefully, and Colleen warned off potential ribbing with a ferocious glare.

Preoccupied with the turn, Sam missed it. "What am I doing wrong? You make it look so easy!"

 _That_ _'s because it_ is _easy._ Colleen stifled a sigh. "You're thinking too hard about what could go wrong. If that's all you've got in your head, you're going to miss the chance to do it right." She gave him a wry smile. "To be honest, most people have trouble with the first few moves. Once it starts to click into place the more complicated stuff is actually easier."

"But I keep messing it up!"

"Then just keep trying, right?" Colleen shrugged. "It's okay, you'll get it—this isn't rocket science."

Sam gave her a peculiar look over his glasses. "No, this _isn_ _'t_ rocket science. _That_ I can do. This is some sadistic step designed specifically to _torture_ rocket scientists."

Colleen blinked. "I'm… sorry?"

Her student's face went red. "Er—ah—that's not what I meant. I mean, I—uh, well…"

" _You_ _'re_ a rocket scientist?"

"Well… um… I guess you could say that."

She had to laugh. "That explains _so_ much. How come you're hanging out with Manuel? I thought he was doing communications or something."

"International communications. And we're both with the Galaxy Garrison, which is how we know each other."

"So that's where the rockets come in. It all makes sense now." Colleen guided Sam back into the dance, keeping up the stream of conversation. "You at the University of Michigan, then? How does a Garrison guy wind up doing that?"

"They cover our schooling in exchange for working for them afterward." Sam grinned, the foolish grin of a kid talking about his dream. "Not that I'm complaining. The Garrison's on the cutting edge of space technology, especially now that they've incorporated NASA, and I want in."

"You want to go to space?"

"Well…" The grin got wider. "The opportunity's not exactly a downside."

"Heh, enjoy that. I'm keeping my feet on the ground, thank you. I have enough trouble with airplanes as it is."

"You don't like flying?"

"No sir. I drive or take the train whenever I can get away with it. Helps that most of my family's in Ohio and Pennsylvania, so it's not far to visit."

"Buckeye territory, huh?" Hazel eyes twinkled behind his glasses at the mention of Michigan's archrivals. "What are you doing hanging around the Wolverines, then?"

Colleen grinned back. "I'm working on a masters in biochem. And in getting rocket scientists to dance, apparently. Have you noticed that you've done three perfect spins?"

Sam looked down at his feet in bewilderment, as if he could see his success stamped across the floor. "I did?"

"Yep. See what happens when you stop overthinking?"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I can't help it…"

"I noticed. Now, how about I show you one where you spin instead of me? This is called a belt turn, and you can do some fun things with it…"

She guided him through the turn a couple times, then gave him the reins. This time Sam caught on more quickly, and he began to rotate between his two-shot arsenal with growing enthusiasm. Colleen had to smile. "See what I told you? You're getting the hang of this."

"Definitely need to practice. But this _is_ fun."

"Worth losing a bet?"

"Two bets, but yes." Sam slowed, eying the dance floor, which was starting to clear out as the dance session drew to an end. "Um. I saw some of the other couples doing that sorta…" He made a stiff rotating motion with his arms. "Could you, uh, teach me that? If you have time?"

Colleen sorted through the possibilities of what that charades gesture could mean, and… _Oh. Of course._ "The dip? Hmm, I think we can do that. It starts from closed position, and you're going to drop your left hand and turn me. I'll put my right arm on your shoulder for balance, and you put yours around my back so I don't drop. And then lean, like this."

Sam watched her mime his part in the move, and nodded. "Okay, that makes sense. But how come you don't just run into me?"

"Well, I actually do a little bit, but that's where my balance comes from so it's not a problem. You ready to give it a try?"

"Sure."

They started into the basic, triple step, triple step, rock step. Sam twitched a couple times, and Colleen could tell he was psyching himself out again. "Relax, don't worry about it too much. Just let go of my hand and turn me."

"Let go and turn. Let go, and turn. Okay, okay, here we go…"

He let go of her hand, and turned her.

Colleen didn't hit the floor hard. She was a dance teacher, after all. She knew how to fall. But she barely had enough time to even realize what had happened before Sam was crouching beside her, babbling a stream of apologies as he tried to help her up. "Oh my gosh, I am _so_ sorry, I didn't—are you okay? Did you get hurt? I am so sorry, I had no idea I—"

"Sam, calm down, I'm fine!" Colleen took his offered hand, trying not to laugh. "This happens all the time. Really, it's not—"

"Lieutenant Holt!" Manuel appeared at Sam's elbow, the mischievous gleam in his eye betraying his attempt at severity. "You dance with the woman and then drop her? What kind of officer are you?"

"I didn't mean to," Sam started, red as a tomato.

"Oh, knock it off, Manuel," Colleen broke in. "I'm fine, it was an accident, and might I add that _you_ _'re_ one to talk. Need I remind you of Laura and the aerial incident?"

Manuel snapped his mouth shut.

"That's what I thought. Now shoo. You're in the way."

Sam watched his friend beat a hasty retreat and gave Colleen a curious look. "The aerial incident?"

"Ask him about it later," Colleen advised, "and _then_ I'll tell you my version." She gave him a conspiratorial smirk. "I'm curious to see just how different our notes will be."

Too late she realized that she'd just assumed he'd be coming back. Manuel had insinuated that this was a one time visit, but Sam _did_ seem to be enjoying himself. Not that the instructors ever complained about getting someone new, but he might think presuming like that was rude, and…

 _I_ _'m actually having fun. Did not see that coming._

 _I hope he doesn_ _'t think I'm giving him an advertisement pitch…_

Sam grinned. "I will definitely do that. He sure deserves it. But… are you sure you're okay? I'm so sorry I dropped you—"

"I told you, it's fine." Colleen patted his arm as she steered him back into position. "It happens all the time. You did everything right, except you didn't move your left hand under my back. That helps keep me from falling. Try it again, a little more slowly."

They went back into the basic step. Colleen could feel tension in Sam's grip, but he took a breath and seemed to steady himself. Then he dropped her hand and turned, right arm catching around her waist, and she leaned into the dip with her arm on his shoulder for balance. Sam hesitated for the briefest instant, possibly wondering if she would fall again. Then he grinned and pulled her back to her feet. Colleen spun out with the motion to full arm extension, following the natural tug on her hand back into the basic. "That was perfect!"

"Was it?" But her student was beaming. "It felt okay, but I wasn't sure… Um, can I do it again?"

"Of course."

This time she swept out a graceful arm as he leaned her into the dip, knee up to accentuate the movement. Her partner twitched with surprise, but when he pulled her back up he was grinning even more broadly. "Whoa, that was great!"

"Careful," Colleen teased. "If you say that too loud Manuel will hear and you'll lose that five dollars."

"Hey, that is five dollars I am happy to lose. This has been a lot of fun."

"I'm glad losing that bet was worth it."

"It definitely was."

Colleen hesitated, wondering if should should plug regular lessons. It certainly would be in her interest, because students meant money and money meant eating and rent. And he was _nice._ But before she could figure out how to get all that into words without seeming pushy Sam beat her to it. "Say, when are you guys open? I don't know if I could be particularly regular, between school and the Garrison and research, but I'd like to come back sometime."

"We've got our information brochures over by the door." Relieved for the opportunity, Colleen headed for their front table. "There are weekly lessons, but we also have regular open dance sessions…"

As she rifled through the papers she saw Manuel sidle up. The dark-haired man gave his friend a kick in the shin, and she was almost positive she heard him hiss, "Ask for her number, you blockhead!"

Colleen stilled. Smiled, and grabbed a pen.

When she turned back around with the brochure in hand, a red-faced Sam was fumbling with his glasses. "Ah, um… This has the school information? With the, uh, times?"

"Yeah, it's got everything. And that."

She pointed. Sam blinked at the handwritten name and number, and his face went from flushed to crimson. "Ah—I—uh—"

"Hey, you can blame him." Colleen jabbed a thumb at Manuel. "He's louder than he thinks."

The other man grinned hugely as his friend turned a glare on him. "Aw, come on, man! I was totally quiet! She's just got good ears!"

"No, this is definitely your fault," Sam ground out. Adjusted his glasses again, and gave Colleen a wry little smile. "I do apologize for his rudeness. That was completely uncalled for. But… um…" He shuffled his feet, blush deepening even more. "Can I keep the number?"

Colleen stifled a laugh. "Why do you think I gave it to you?"

"And speaking of giving…" Manuel elbowed his friend in the ribs. "Where's that five bucks?"

"…You're heartless."

"And proud of it!" The man snapped the surrendered bill a couple times, then handed it to Colleen with a flourish. "For you, ma'am, for making this bookworm actually have fun for once."

Colleen grinned after the pair as Manuel dragged his still-crimson friend out the door. "Pleasure was all mine."

* * *

During the wedding reception, Colleen sidled up to Manuel and shoved a piece of paper into his hand. "All things considered, it's only fair I pay up."

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow at the five dollar bill. "What's this for?"

"I won it off you when you introduced us." The bride shrugged, brown eyes dancing with mischief. "The way things have turned out, I didn't think it exactly fair of me to keep it."

"Hey, I'm not going to complain." Manuel stuffed the money into his pocket and flashed her a grin. "And since we're on the subject… Might I have this dance, Mrs. Holt?"

Colleen laughed and held out her hand. "Five dollars and a dance? My word, but you're getting spoiled!"

"Hey, Sam's by far the most spoiled man in this room today. I'll take what I can get."

"I'm flattered. Though I've always wondered…" Colleen gave him a sidelong look as they stepped onto the dance floor. "Did you plan for us to meet back then?"

Manuel's grin broadened. "I plead the Fifth."

"What's this about remaining silent?" Sam appeared at the dark-haired man's elbow. "And since when do you get to dance with my wife at our wedding?"

"Since you wandered off to talk to your crazy cat lady aunt and left her by herself," Manuel shot back. "And she wanted to know if I tried to set you guys up at that first dance session."

"Well, did you?"

"I don't know, did I?"

"You guys sound like kindergarteners," Colleen sighed. "And you're the minds behind the space program? We're doomed."

"It's eccentric genius," Sam returned with a grin. Raised an eyebrow at Manuel. "Go enjoy the dance, but no dropping her. Got it?"

The trio exchanged looks, and burst out laughing.

* * *

A/N: The previous chapter has fanart, courtesy of booyakasherlock of Tumblr. Check it out! (put her name, a dot, tumblr, a dot, then) com (slash) post (slash) 178128417051 (slash) i-was-reading-the-latest-chapter-of-my-favorite

Sorry, FF really, _really_ hates URLs.

In recompense for the atrocity of Season 8, I hope you enjoyed this Holt family fluff. All the dances and moves mentioned are real and are loads of fun; if you ever get the opportunity to take ballroom dance lessons, do it. The story was inspired by a post on Tumblr by thejunglenook recounting how a group of dancing instructors discovered that one of their students worked for NASA.

And speaking of Season 8, I am working on a fix-it fic that starts all the way back at Season 1 Episode 1. Since it started out as a writing exercise, novelizing a story on screen, it's written in such a way that someone who's never seen the show could pick it up and not miss anything. I'm already 150K words into it, but as I'm being anal about continuity I won't be posting for a while. Still, if you're at all interested in reading it, please follow me! (And as Space Lions will be the "down time episodes" of said story I will let you know in the notes here when it does go up.)

Please review!


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